Harry Potter and the Escape to New York
by Writing Warriors
Summary: He's scared, wanting desperately to find a safe place and voila, Harry Potter escapes to New York at the age of nine. Welcomed into a wonderful magical community of his own, he grows away from the dangers of the wizarding world until he has an accidental encounter with a French witch and then a bushy haired witch. He masters the master manipulator and comes into his own.
1. Prologue: Escape

Disclaimer

This is the part of the story where I acknowledge the fact that JKR owns Harry Potter and that Republic Pictures owns Beauty and the Beast. We write this story as a desire to tell a story and nothing more, making no profit or any coin at all from these few words. Of course, we can only dream.

1-Prologue

The small boy huddled down on the roof, aware that his life as he knew it was over.

It had happened as had so many strange things in his life. The Harry Hunt was on and his cousin, along with Piers and the rest of their gang, was closing in. An emotion of fear, a desire to get away any way possible and -CRACK – he was on the school roof. Only he knew that Dudley had seen him seconds later, and he had caught the one word that he hated and feared to hear – "freak!"

He could predict the events that would unfold that evening. First Dudley would ask to speak to Uncle Vernon while Aunt Petunia would adopt the look on her face that he hated so much, one of disgust and cold hatred. Then Uncle Vernon's face would darken and he would begin to turn towards him, calling out "Boy, you've been warned about your freakish ways." Then the hitting would begin followed by opening the cupboard door and him being locked in for a few days. The school wouldn't care: Aunt Petunia was skilled at calling in that her nephew was sick again.

How he was doing it, even he didn't know. All he ever wanted was to be normal and be loved, something that he knew with a sudden flash of insight would never happen here. His "family", his relatives hated him. Not just dislike, but a visceral deep down hatred. And they were quite adept at expressing it.

No, this time, he needed to get away for good. But how could this happen? He was stuck on the roof of the school with no idea of how he got there and soon his cousin would get the school's Headmaster or someone else in authority to get him down. And if they became involved, the results would be worse because he, Harry Potter, had exposed his _freakiness_ to others, other who might think that his relatives were the same way.

The fear was growing inside again and young Harry found himself wishing again for a safe place, a warm place, and a loving place away from beatings, insults, no food and cupboards under the stairs. Better to die than return to what he considered his own private prison. And after a few seconds of closing his eyes and wishing strongly, his prayers were answered. Harry James Potter, a nine year old orphan from 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, vanished never to return to that address again.

* * *

Despite hours of searching, first by the Headmaster, then the school caretaker and other teachers, finally by local authorities, Harry was not found. It was late evening when the Headmaster knocked on the door of 4 Privet Drive and was greeted at the door by a large man who could only be Dudley Dursley's father.

"I am sorry, Mr. Dursley, but your nephew was not found either by my staff or by the local constabulary. Are you sure that your son saw him on the rooftop?" he said fatigue evident in his voice.

He could see a flash of something like rage cross Dursley's face, but it was only there for a second. "Headmaster, if my son says he saw my good for nothing nephew on the roof, then he saw him on the roof," Mr. Dursley replied. The Headmaster could smell he had been indulging before coming to the door.

"He probably just ran away," the large man continued. "Never appreciated the love and care we lavished on him, him with his freakish ways and abnormal behavior. But my sister says blood will tell, blood will always tell. Just following the example of his spendthrift, wastrel parents, killed in that car crash for drinking and ending up on our doorstep."

It was obvious to the tired Headmaster that he was touching on some sore nerves tonight, so he made his apologies and, promising to keep an eye out for Harry, bid them goodnight.

* * *

In a Scottish castle in the Highlands, an old wizard contemplated the now smoking remnants of his monitoring devices. They had suddenly whined and fallen silent at 11:30 in the morning, just before he was due to enter the Great Hall for lunch. Thus with only a whispered word to his Deputy, the old headmaster left for Privet Drive to find out what in the world had happened to Harry Potter.

He had arrived on the scene, disillusioned and cautious. There was no sign of anything abnormal other than the wards which appeared to have collapsed moments before. Something had happened to young Mr. Potter, but he could not tell what.

But of course, Harry would not have performed any strange magic: the young lad knew nothing about magic. And despite Arabella Figg's warnings about abuse at the Dursley home, Albus knew that it was simply an overreaction on Arabella's part. He yearned for the days of his youth when his father had still been alive, before the incident with Ariana and the muggle boys; when his father had demonstrated his love with a gentle, but firm hand. That was something missing from education and from raising children in this time: discipline and a firm hand.

Still, if Harry had not done anything at home to have set off the wards, what could he have done and where could he have done it? At school perhaps? But he, Albus Dumbledore, would have heard about magical use at school, would he not? No, what must have happened is that the boy must have decided for whatever reason to run away. Probably not appreciating the warmth and love of Lily's sister's home.

Thinking of Lily, Albus lost himself in the memories of a different time. Lily had so much potential and if only she had allowed Albus to guide her into the marriage with the Greengrass family, the wizarding world would have truly benefited. Cyrus Greengrass had demonstrated his willingness to overlook the facts of Lily's birth and status and had been prepared to offer Lily a home and scope for her prodigious talents. A place as the second wife, training as a Charms or Potions Mistress: Lily would have found herself climbing farther than any muggleborn witch could expect to. The small gifts of appreciation that Cyrus would have given Dumbledore would simply have been tokens of appreciation of a grateful husband.

No, Lily had fallen for the irresponsible and disruptive son of Charlus Potter, James. While Albus had always appreciated his relationship with James' father, there was no doubt that the Potter family cared little for pureblood traditions and the stability of society generally. He had thought with the marriage of Charlus to Dorea Black that an element of normalcy would enter the Potter family and yet, once their late born son had gone to Hogwarts, the Potter family was embroiled in yet another scandal, that of turning the future heir of the Black family against the traditions and teachings of his parents. The resulting expulsion of Sirius Black had nearly upset some marriages; had even contributed in part, Albus was sure, to the marriage of Andromeda Black to the muggleborn upstart lawyer, Ted Tonks. And the marriages which should have been a means of uniting the factions of the British Wizarding World after the trauma of Voldemort, instead had lost their meaning.

Now James and Lily were dead, a waste of potential and leadership; Sirius Black was in prison, finally turning back to his family roots by murder and betrayal; and now the last of the Potters had decided to run away from a safe and loving home. Why couldn't people just see the greater good before them? Now he would have to begin a search for young Harry.

* * *

**A/N: So...what do you think? Hearing your oppinions would be great :D So you guys should all go click that little button that says "Review". We'll always accept constructive critisism and typographicall correcting (cus we all know us authors can't see every mistake XD). However, flames will be used to make s'mores :)**


	2. Chapter 1: Welcome to The World Below

Harry Meets the World Below

Kipper looked carefully around as he slid the panel open allowing him access to the alley. Father had been very specific with the order from the Wongs today and Kipper did not want to fail him. Everyone was shouldering more responsibilities these days with the crisis involving Vincent and Catherine and he did not want to disappoint the grey haired patriarch of the Tunnel World. Contacting the Wongs for drugs and supplies for the hospital chamber was a task usually given to a senior member of the tunnel community. However, security was much tighter since the caverns and tunnels had been breached by the mad assassin called Snow, who had killed Brooke's boyfriend and Old Sam before Vincent had taken him out, and the task had to be assinged to whoever was avaliable at the time.

The early morning light rarely penetrated here in the back alleys of Chinatown, and this location was normally safe, with few, if any, visitors. He could visit the Wongs, pick up the supplies and be down below before more people appeared on the streets.

He scanned the alley, noticing no one around and had just reached back for the bags to hold the supplies when he heard a loud cracking sound. Turning back, he saw a small boy, dressed in clothes much too large for his frame, standing in the alley, a confused look on his face.  
"Where did I get to this time," he heard the boy speak in a tone of wonder tinged with fear. "This is nowhere near the school: they will really think I am a freak now."

Kipper noticed the strange boy's accent and realized he must be new to New York. "Hey," he said in a friendly tone, "Where did you come from?"

The small boy turned and looked even more frightened than before. "Wh….who are you and where am I?" he stammered on seeing Kipper.

Kipper and others had been trained by Vincent and other senior members of the community to both protect the secret of the community and keep an eye out for people in need. This boy looked lost, alone, frightened and gave off the vibes that Kipper had come to expect from children who were abused.

"My name is Kipper and you're here in Chinatown. What's your name?"

"Harry….Potter."

"You from over the water?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't understand…over the water?"

"Yeah," Kipper replied. "From the UK?" At seeing Harry's confusion, he continued, "Great Britain?"

"I'm from Little Whinging, Surrey," Harry said in a low voice. "But where is here?"

"Well, you're in New York City, a long way from Surrey, wherever that is," Kipper said with a smile. He decided he liked this small boy and he could sense Harry was on the edge of panic now.

New York City? Harry had grown up with little knowledge of geography and of world cities, but even he had heard of the big city in the United States called New York. From what little he had heard on the telly, when the Dursleys would not shut the cupboard door, he knew it was a long, long way from Surrey. Perhaps he was safe here, if only for a moment. He relaxed fractionally and looked at the warm brown eyes of Kipper.

"Would you like to help me today?" the older boy was asking Harry. He could see the friendly expression in Kipper's eyes and decided that anything would beat Harry Hunting or living in a cupboard.

He nodded his head and extended a hand.

* * *

"He just suddenly appeared, Father, in the alley. One minute the alley was empty and the next he was there. He looked so lost, alone and frightened," Kipper told the patriarch of the tunnel world.

Harry had proven himself as more than a willing helper with filling the bags with the drugs and supplies and despite his smaller size, Kipper could see that he would go a long way to carrying the supplies back to the Hub. But he also couldn't help seeing the bruises on his arms and the marks on his back as Harry was reaching up to hoist the bag onto his shoulder. Although Kipper was young, he could see that his new young friend had been, and probably still was, being mistreated.

He had suggested switching bags with Harry and noticed immediately that Harry, while willing to help, appreciated the lighter load. He decided to invite Harry to the tunnels and have him meet with Father, standard procedures in similar situations.

"Harry, I really appreciate your help and I would like you to meet some friends of mine," Kipper began. "But the place where we are going with these supplies is a secret place for people who have had some trouble in their life.

"Would you like to come with me?"

This was the first time in Harry's memory that someone had invited him to go or come somewhere and the idea of a secret place for people who had problems touched him and placed a feeling in his heart that he had lost long before. It was only a glimmer, but he felt warmed by the obvious friendship of Kipper and his willingness both to include him and invite him to visit his friends.

"If you don't mind," he said hesitantly.

"I'll warn you that where we live is a bit unusual, but it is a place where there is love, friendship, and warmth," Kipper said. "Just don't judge us until you talk to the head of our little community, Father."

* * *

And now here he was, standing before an elderly gentleman with a neatly trimmed beard, in a room that was as different from the Dursleys as black was from white. The disordered collection of books everywhere, the warm brown colors, the tappings of the pipes in the background and the occasional sound of something moving in the background made Harry feel as if he was in a fairy tale.

Add to that the fact this world was underground, that the inhabitants appeared to wear strange collections of clothes and that it was lit with candles and torches: it was definitely unlike anything Harry could recall from his 'normal' relatives.

Now his new friend was speaking to this elderly gentleman he addressed as Father.

Jacob Wells had become an acute observer of people since he had descended to the tunnels below and helped to found the community of which he was now the titular head and he could tell much about Harry in the few short minutes he had laid eyes upon him. His experienced medical eyes looked past the oversized clothes and the taped up glasses and began cataloguing the abuse.

Malnutrition was obvious, he thought to himself; the boy was way too thin for his age. Despite Harry's small size, it was clear that he was 9 or 10 years of age. His hands showed bruising and one finger definitely looked as if it had been broken.

It was Harry's general manner that told Jacob Wells much more. He hung back in the shadows, looking to blend in and not be noticed and was clearly uncomfortable with the attention and regard he was receiving from the older man. He was definitely frightened, yet there was a spark of something in his eyes as he looked between Kipper and himself. Jacob had seen it before – the spark of hope.

Signing for Kipper to stop speaking, he bent down slowly and looked into Harry Potter's frightened, yet hopeful eyes. It was important here to be slow and deliberate and not startle young Harry with sudden movements.

"Well, young Harry, welcome to our humble abode," he said looking directly into Harry's eyes. "It appears that you are a long way from home – or is it home?" Begin with a leading question and see what young Harry would say.

The bitter tone did not surprise Jacob, but the strength of it did. "It's not home, never has been. Been told by them that I'm nothing but a freak, an accident, the product of drunken parents," Harry spat out.

Back in Scotland, a silver monitoring device blew up and the last of the wards fell at 4 Privet Drive. Albus wasn't there to notice as he was meeting with Auror Alastor Moody in an effort to locate a runaway Harry in London.

"Who were you staying with?" Jacob continued slowly and gently.

"My uncle and aunt," Harry replied. "Only they told me that they took me in out of the goodness of their hearts and then they let me live in a cupboard."

Jacob sucked in his breath at that last statement. He had heard many horrific stories over the years from abused children and adult survivors of child abuse. But letting someone live in a cupboard presented a new low.

He pushed down on a growing sense of rage at hearing Harry speak. It was clear the young boy was telling the truth: the signs of abuse were too clear and the manner of acting and speaking were too real to be acting. But now was not the time to get the full story. He could sense Harry's fatigue and the young boy's emotions were too close to the edge for a detailed discussion. It was clear that Harry was near his limit and needed to be comforted and made welcome now. He could take the time to explore what to do with him and how to take action, if any, against his abusers at a later time.

"Harry," he said in a welcoming tone. "Kipper was right to bring you here and on behalf of our community I would like to welcome you to the World Below. While the scenery may not be spectacular, our hearts are always open to receive and protect those who need it."

He could see Harry begin to relax and the small spark of hope begin to fan itself into a small flame.

"Our rules are simple here: listen to those who are older because there are many parts of our world that are dangerous if you do not know your way; work on your studies because we are part of a larger world above; do those small tasks that we will assign because we all should work together to build and maintain our community and most of all, do not hesitate to share with us when you have needs." He caught Harry's nod of approval at those conditions and relaxed himself. While abused, this young boy was not damaged beyond repair.

"One last condition," he added. "This world is a secret place, a safe place, a place where others can come and count on help. We must keep the secret of this place at all times.

"Can you agree to this, Harry Potter?"

Harry nodded again and timidly extended his right hand. Jacob moved slowly and deliberately shook it.

"Then welcome to the World Below."

* * *

Diana Bennett was enjoying, or rather tolerating, one of Jacob Wells' infernal cups of tea. While the tea was piping hot, she still missed the sharp flavor of coffee and wondered anew how she could convince the leaders of the world below to set up a coffee percolator.

Her attention returned to Father's news update.

"Our newest resident appears to have just shown up in a Chinatown alley," Jacob was saying. "He is definitely British and lists his old residence as 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. I hesitate to call it his old home."

Diana's ears perked up at the veiled anger in Father's voice.

"Abused?"

"Monumental and long term," he said. "Long term malnutrition, numerous broken bones, whippings from a belt, forced child labor, let alone the psychological and emotional abuse and starvation they put him through."

"Parents?" Diana was now wearing the hat of a police detective.

"Uncle and Aunt. They told him his parents died in a car accident because they were drunk. Didn't even tell him his name until he was forced to go to school. They called him "boy" or "Freak" – even until he left them."

He looked at Diana, his eyes now burning. "He spoke of living in a cupboard under the stairs and the way he speaks about it is one of experience.

"How could anyone be that cruel, Diana?"

Diana looked at her teacup, forcing down her own anger. She had a soft heart for children and it was these kinds of cases that wormed their way the deepest into her heart. How someone could methodically torture, starve, overwork and abuse a child was something she always had difficulty with.

"Do we know who the relatives are?"

"A Vernon and Petunia Dursley," Jacob said.

"Still in Little Whinging?" Jacob nodded. "There isn't much we could do here to get them over there," Diana said after a few moments of silence. "Different country, different laws. Plus they may put him into foster homes which are not always a gift either. If you can welcome him here?"

Jacob's face broke into a genuine smile. "That young man has already wormed his way into everyone's heart. Always polite, never challenges someone's request, always helpful: I believe I would have a rebellion if we removed Harry Potter from our community now."

Diana couldn't resist a smile. What Vincent had said to her about having fires always warm for her was not restricted to her alone: this world had a heart larger than the city of New York. Harry Potter's luckiest day was meeting Kipper in Chinatown.

"Any idea on how he got here?" she asked.

"No, and that is the strangest thing about this whole story. He told me that one moment he was running from his cousin who was looking to beat him up, the next he was on the school roof and the next minute he was in New York," Jacob said, shaking his head. "It almost sounds like magic."

"Strange things happen in this place," Diana shuddered on thinking of the events of the past few months. Even now with the safe return of Jacob, Father's grandson, the community, Father, Vincent and even herself had gone through hell and desperately needed a time of healing.

And young Harry Potter was doing his part to help the community heal. She remembered hearing how Harry met Vincent for the first time.

* * *

Kipper took his new young friend by the hand and led him to a chamber away from Father's office and home.

"I'm going to share one of our greatest secrets. You are about to meet the heart of our community, of our world. If Father is our head, then Vincent is our heart.

"But he is different. Just don't try to judge him by what you see."

Harry's interest was now awakened. "What do you mean: don't judge him by what I see?"

A deep, yet soft voice came from the darkness of the chamber. "He means, young Harry, that you cannot judge a book by its cover."

Harry could not describe the feeling that came over him at the sound of that voice. Cultured, learned, warmth and a sense of caring: all were sentiments that were born within him when he heard it for the first time. He made a guess at who was speaking.

"Vincent?"

"Yes," came the reply and Harry could hear a wry sense of humor in the answer. "I am Vincent and as Kipper is wont to point out, I am a bit different. But then, young Harry, I suspect you are different in your own way. One moment in England and the next in New York City without any idea on how you got here."

The source of the voice was coming closer and Harry could see now that whoever was speaking was big. Yet, listening to his voice, he did not feel alarmed: instead he felt almost hypnotized and at peace.

As Vincent finally moved into the light, Harry's initial impression of Vincent's size was confirmed, but he could only see his cloak and hood. Vincent's voice still gave Harry a sense both of hushed power and of caring. Then as Vincent reached up to push his hood back, Harry saw his face.

In the light of the candles, he could clearly see Vincent's leonine features and the hint of fangs. How such a mouth could form words and even speak, he wondered for a moment, but then he looked into Vincent's clear blue eyes. Those eyes looked back into Harry's emerald green eyes with friendliness and a little curiosity.

Surprisingly, to all the people in the room, including himself, Harry smiled. "Wow, I see what you mean by not judging a book by its cover."

Vincent's empathic sense could find no fear in Harry's view of him. It could have been from the many things he had already seen in the world below or in the sense of acceptance Harry was now feeling in this place.

"I guess you are different on the outside," Harry continued. "But after everything else I have already been introduced to, you somehow fit right in."

Vincent could now sense Harry's wonder and blossoming of hope. Anew, he thanked the heavens for the acceptance and open mindedness of a child, and especially this child. Harry was adding something magical to this world, something they hadn't even known they had been missing until now.

"As do you, young Harry, as do you," was Vincent's only reply.

* * *

**A/N: Once again, reviews and constructive critisism are appreciated, flames are used to bake cake.  
**


	3. Chapter 2: Harry Finds A Home

3-Harry Finds a Home

Or Adapting to the World Below I

Disclosure

See Chapter 1 – Prologue. Reviews are appreciated, flames are not.

_October 1990_

Another useless phone call, Diana thought, as she slammed the receiver back into its cradle.

It had been six months of slow, painstaking research, navigating a system she knew next to nothing about – the British child welfare system – and she was no closer to getting answers or finding justice than she had been at the start.

At least she would no longer complain about her own New York City Children's Aid society.

Of course, she had learned some things. There had been a Vernon and Petunia Dursley in Little Whinging, Surrey, eight months ago. But they had upped and moved, and there was no record of a Harry Potter at their address or any address they had ever had.

Compound that with the fact that these same Dursleys had just disappeared with no forwarding address and it was no surprise that her search for them had come to a dead end.

But it had only gotten better with her further research: Harry Potter himself did not seem to exist anywhere in the British records. There was no birth certificate, no record of parents having died or Harry having been placed up for adoption. It was as if he had never existed anywhere in Britain.

Diana knew that she had to tread carefully. The signs of abuse had been clear to every member of the underground community from the beginning and even now, Harry still experienced nightmares and behavior that showed he had been conditioned by some real mean abusers. He still showed fear at sudden movements and had difficulty in accepting correction, demonstrating that he was expecting a beating or punishment by being locked up in a cupboard.

No, the situation warranted care in her searches: she had no wish to trigger an international custody fight that would see the young boy that had wormed his way into her heart returned to an abusive environment simply because it wasn't New York City's jurisdiction.

Yet, the absence of any documentation on Harry presented another challenge. If he didn't exist in Britain, what could be done to keep him here?

It was time to discuss this with her leonine friend. Perhaps he had some ideas. She was stumped herself.

_March 1991_

"You're certain of this," Joe's tone demanded a clear answer.

It had been Vincent's idea to lay the cards on the table with Joe Maxwell, Manhattan's DA and Catherine Chandler's former boss. Diana still counted Vincent's meeting with Joe earlier in 1990 as one of the bravest things that he had ever done: Joe could have made his life and that of the community a living hell. But her fiancé had felt that Joe was owed a complete explanation of what had happened to his former friend and as a means of saying thanks for the assistance he had given in the final takedown of Gabriel.

And now, in cases like Harry's, the underground community had an ear in the upper echelons of the city's justice department.

Diana could only nod.

"So let me get this straight. This kid, Harry, suddenly shows up in Chinatown, complete with a British accent, definite signs of abuse, an address in Surrey and says that he is looking for a new home?

"And then when you go looking for a way to nail his abusers to a wall without triggering an international incident, you find there is no record of him ever having been there in Britain?"

Diana nodded again.

"Can't we just put him on a plane and ship him back?" Joe asked.

Her eyes grew cold and she nailed Joe with a stare of ice. "I would never send my Harry back to abusers like that. They were petty, Joe, petty. Who forces a five year old to cook breakfast for three people and then not allow him to eat anything? Or tell that same five year old that he is nothing but a freak, or call him boy? Or let him live in a cupboard under the stairs, often without food or water?"

Joe raised up a hand signaling his surrender. "I'm not saying that I don't believe you. Joseph and Mary, I've learned to suspend my disbelief with that whole underground world and Vincent ever since he came up to see me last year. Dr Wells and all the members of that community are doing a great job down there.  
"But I'm trying to play devil's advocate here."

"It's a community of which you and Jenny are now a part, Joe," Diana said softly. "You two are big helpers for us. It's just Vincent thought you could help us here."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Vincent and the other members of the council would like to keep Harry with us. He has really taken to your godchild, Jacob, and the two of them are inseparable." Her face softened into a smile as she recalled that despite the difference in their ages, the 10-year-old Harry and the two-year-old Jacob were indeed inseparable.

Joe couldn't help but appreciate the changes that Diana's continued association with Vincent, Jacob and the world below were having on this formerly guarded, cold special detective. There was openness, softness, and warmth that burst forth in times like this, and he felt he was finally getting a glimpse into her soul. And now she was engaged to one of the most unique individuals he had ever met.

"Look, Bennett, I trust yours' and Vincent's judgment here. But this kid has no papers, no birth certificate. I can't start anything without some papers."

"And I can't find any papers to start anything. There is no proof that he even exists except that he is here in our community, that he mentions a town in England and people who actually exist, and that he has a distinctly British accent."

Joe was silent for some seconds. "What about school? Did he go to school there?"

It was so obvious a suggestion that Diana felt like kicking herself. Harry had mentioned attending school in Little Whinging and there was no way that he would have been admitted to a school without some paperwork. But how could she check into it without alerting the authorities and inadvertently forcing Harry back to an abusive situation. She would have to confirm first from Harry where he had gone to school.

"I'll check into it," she said, rising to leave Joe's office.

"Will I have an opportunity to meet this young Brit?" Joe surprised Diana as she was walking toward the door.

"Of course," she replied. "Tonight?"

"Jen and I will be there."

* * *

The familiar clanging of the pipes welcomed Diana as she made her way to the Hub. With the exception of the community's reliance on tea rather than her own strong java, she was truly beginning to feel at home in Vincent's, no, their world.

But how would she bring up this line of questioning with Harry? He had spent the last few months integrating happily into the community, but he needed more than just a life in the tunnels. He needed an education and opportunities that would take him outside of the tunnels themselves. And for that he needed papers of some sort to allow him to stay here.

She realized that she was beginning to think of Harry as her own child. Despite the abuse and its obvious scars, he was opening up to everyone and was worming his way into the hearts of the entire underground community. His interaction with Jacob and her efforts to help him was cementing a close bond between Harry and herself, and she suspected, between Harry and Vincent as well.

She felt, however, that she had to lay the cards on the table for him and get his input on what to do next.

The object of her thoughts suddenly ran across from one chamber to the next with the two year old Jacob in pursuit. They must be back at their games again, she decided and the laughter coming from Vincent's young son confirmed that seconds later. Yes, they were definitely playing.

"Harry?" she called out. His emerald eyes peeked around the corner and he smiled when he saw her.

"Aunt Diana," he replied. Unfortunately for him, his speaking with her allowed Jacob to catch up to him.

"Got you 'arree," the blond haired toddler laughed.

Diana swooped down and picked Jacob up, signing for Harry to join her in Vincent's and her chamber. "Harry, we need to talk."

She could see the fear come into his eyes at her tone. "Have I done something?" he finally blurted out.

"No, but we need some information from you and I would like to talk with you and Vincent about our current situation."

The sharp edge of fear had left his eyes at her even tone; she was obviously not mad at him. But his curiosity remained.

"Our current situation?"

"About where you went to school, Harry. We are working on finding a way to allow you to stay here permanently," she replied.

The light in his eyes brightened at her words and she was hit with a sense of true longing and hope. Harry was definitely engaged in this topic now.

"What can I do to help?" he eagerly began.

She raised her hand to silence him. "Hold your horses, young man. I need to get Jacob into the nursery and then Vincent, you and I will have our chat."

It took only a few minutes for those tasks to be resolved and the three were soon seated in Vincent's large antechamber.

Taking care with her words, Diana laid out the scenario, feeling that Harry needed to be appraised of the current situation and what information they needed from him.

"I only found out my name when I began school in Little Whinging," Harry replied. "My relatives always called me 'boy' or 'freak' before that date.

"But I think the Headmaster of that school must have been a friend of Uncle Vernon because one teacher complained about some bruises they saw on me and they disappeared two or three days later."

Diana sat back with a sigh. Her major goal at the beginning of this process had been to have Harry's abusers prosecuted and face justice for their crimes without triggering an international incident that could see Harry returned to those very same abusers. While the manner of his arrival was still unbelievable, her overriding goal was to ensure his safety from further abuse and see his healing begin, something that was well underway.

But with the headmaster in the abusers' pocket, any attempt to obtain Harry's school records would probably tip the abuser off that police were investigating. And if they could trigger a jurisdictional fight with the NYC authorizes, the actual substance of Harry's abuse could be buried.

How they could obtain a copy of Harry's school file, get necessary papers from it without alerting local Surrey authorities, and return the file was something beyond Diana's knowledge this evening.

Her disappointment was clear on her face and Vincent moved to embrace his fiancé while Harry's face grew worried.

"Will I have to leave here if you can't get the file?" he asked in a low voice.

Diana mentally cursed herself for forgetting that Harry was a very sharp observer. An important survival trait that abused children often developed, Harry's observation skills were very sensitive to changes in moods and he often came to an understanding of situations very quickly.

"No Harry. You will not be forced to leave here," Vincent's voice broke in. "You have a place here as long as you wish. It is simply that papers in the file could help us establish you here officially in New York so that you can learn in schools above."

"The lack of papers hinders things, Harry," Diana continued. "We would like to find a way for you to stay here legally."

Hope now warred with fear in Harry's eyes. "So a copy of this file would make things easier."

"Yes," Diana replied. "However, getting it will prove to be a bit more challenging than I first thought."

Rising from the sofa on which she had been sitting, she stretched and turned back to Harry. "Still young man, we've done enough talking for this evening. You are probably tired from all that running around with Jacob this afternoon and supper waits for us in the kitchen chambers."

Harry slowly rose as well and exited a pensive look still upon his face. Diana turned to her large furry friend.

"He didn't take it well, did he?"

"No, although I believe there is a more than a spark of hope within him. He seems to be able to have 'unusual' things occur around him: perhaps a file may yet turn up," Vincent replied, touching her back lightly and communicating his love and appreciation for all that she had been doing for the young British boy. "Come; let us join our young ones in the kitchen."

* * *

Dreams warred within Harry's mind that night: dreams of a woman's scream a green light, a high voice and a school file that promised him a home. The need for the file seemed to grow and grow with intensity. If only he had a copy.

Midway through the night, Diana awoke to the tossing and turning of someone next door. She and Vincent had taken to allowing Harry and Jacob to sleep together in the same chamber: although Jacob was beloved by all the members of their underground community, Vincent's son seemed especially drawn to the black haired young man and, despite the difference in their ages, they were now inseparable. But who could be having a nightmare now?

When Harry had first joined them, he appeared to be continually in the grip of nightmares that would see him awake and screaming. He would remember nothing when awakened, but the sweat would appear on his forehead during these episodes. They had begun to diminish over the past six months as Harry began to relax in his new home, but it appeared the anxiety over the papers and his status with them was re-triggering them.

Padding into the boys' chamber, Diana placed a soothing hand on Harry: it was him again. She thanked the heavens that Jacob was a heavy sleeper: having two sleepy and upset children would not be good for either of them. It was then that she noticed the file by Harry's bed.

He calmed down in seconds and by the time she removed her hand he was already snoring again. She reached over him and plucked the file from the nightstand and opened it to peruse it contents.

Only to discover that it contained one birth certificate for a live birth of a son Harry James Potter to parents Lily Marie Evans Potter and James Charlus Potter, born July 31, 1980 at St Mungo's Hospital, London, UK.

The rest of the file appeared to be the regular contents of a school file: grade reports, teacher comments, school pictures. It was the source of the file that struck Diana as unbelievable: the file was the property of the Little Whinging Elementary School, Little Whinging, Surrey. Just the thing they had been asking for only the night before.

The doorway darkened as Vincent blocked the light from the corridor outside. "Is Harry asleep again?" he asked.

"Yeah, babe," Diana replied, still wrapping her thoughts around what she had in her hand. Looking at her man after a moment's further thought, she sounded bemused.

"Do you remember those strange things that sometimes happen around Harry?" she began.

"I take it there has been another occurrence." Vincent said dryly.

"Only that the file we have been looking for just appeared beside his bed," she replied, straight faced.

"Well then, let us examine it and see if it is indeed the answer to our needs" was Vincent's ordinary sounding reply.

"But….how did it get here? It's almost as if it appeared here….by magic."

"Anyone who can travel from Surrey to New York City in a journey of several seconds or minutes without a plane ticket is already a magical person, would you not agree, Diana?

"And, in fact, if you take a look at this community, or my son, or the relationship I had with Catherine and now enjoy with you, would you not agree that magic can and does exist? How else would we be able to explain your gifts?"

"Or you, my heart." Diana replied in a low voice. The desire was clear and unmistakable and Vincent shivered. What had he done to deserve the love of not one, but two remarkable women, he wondered anew. Perhaps it was magic.

"Let us explore the file with Harry in the morning," he replied. "For now, my bed calls for my huntress."

She was already melting inside at his favorite name for her and she took the file with her to their waiting bed. It could wait until other, more important things were taken care of.

* * *

A week later, Joe, Jenny, Diana and Vincent were seated at the underground community's council chamber. Joe had just finished perusing the file and was nodding his head when Diana had finished speaking.

"Yeah, I think that there is enough here to start the process of naturalization going," he said. "You got the school file very quickly."

"It was your idea, Maxwell," Diana replied. "I'm still kicking myself for not having thought of it before."

"There is still nothing here about adoption or guardianship papers for Harry with those Dursleys," he continued.

"I think it was on the QT. So we would have nothing to hinder us with proceeding on this end of the line."

"What are you suggesting – a foster family?"

Diana here looked at her fiancé who nodded slightly. "Actually, we are thinking of adopting Harry ourselves. And we would like to ask you and Jenny for a favor."

"Adopt him? I understand you are taking care of him and everything, but why adopt him?"

"He has wormed his way into a special place in our hearts," Vincent began. "He shares a special relationship with your godson, Jacob, and the two are almost joined at the hip. And while Harry is accepted by all the members of our community, it seems that there is a special bond growing between us and him."

Jenny then spoke. The former Ms. Aronson still found it unbelievable that not only was she part of the world her best friend Catherine Chandler had experienced, but that this world still seemed to her as that of a fairy tale.

"Diana, you mentioned that you wanted to ask something of Joe and me? As always, my husband is a bit dense in picking up on those small details."

Diana was now blushing and her eyes were moist as she looked at Joe and Jenny. Their relationship had become much deeper since the initial stages of the investigation of Catherine's murder and she now counted the two as good friends.

"You've meant so much to Vincent and I as you have become Jacob's godson. We would like to ask you to stand in as Harry's witnesses in the formal naming ceremony in a few months once the formal adoption papers go through."

Joe swallowed as he realized the implications of what Vincent and Diana were asking of them. Standing in as Harry's witnesses was a singular mark of approval and appreciation among the underground community and it told those around them that they were considered as family by the naming parents.

"Could we at least meet the young man in question?" he asked quickly, his eyes suddenly feeling moist themselves.

"Of course, Joseph," Vincent replied. Rising from the table, he banged on the pipes for a few seconds and moments later the raven haired young boy entered.

"Harry, this is Joseph and Jenny Maxwell, very important helpers from the world above," Vincent began. "Joe is Jacob's godfather."

Harry turned his green emerald eyes on the couple sitting there and then looked more carefully at Jenny.

"You're glowing," he said, to everyone's surprise. He was silent for a few more seconds, carefully looking Jenny up and down. "She will have his eyes, but your face and she will steal everyone's heart."

Jenny's hand had gone up to her throat as her face whitened and then turned red while Joe looked at Harry in confusion. "Harry?"

"How did he know?" Jenny began whispering to herself, just loud enough for Diana and Joe to hear. "I wasn't sure myself: I was going to wait a couple of days before I let you know." There were now tears in her eyes.

Joe had turned to Jenny in concern, but the tears were happy tears. It took Diana a few seconds to put things together. "Jenny, are you pregnant?"

Harry broke in. "I don't know what you call it, but she is carrying a young girl who will be a great friend of this community – and will steal her father's heart."

"Harry, how do you know this?" Vincent spoke carefully and slowly.

"I could just see it," came the reply in his innocent tone. Vincent could sense no subterfuge or deception with him.

By now, Joe was hugging his wife as they shared a moment of private joy. Then Joe turned to face Harry.

"Young man, you just made my wife and me a very happy couple. Care to tell me how you knew?"

Harry was starting to get concerned at the questions. "I'm sorry if I offended you, Mr. Maxwell. I could just see your wife and then the little glow right by her belly and I just knew."

Joe rose up slowly and walking toward Harry, embraced him carefully and slowly. "Harry, I am not offended at all. I think you are a miracle and you bring miracles to our world here."

Turning to Vincent and Diana, he looked at the couple. "I hope that I speak for both of us, but it would be a pleasure to witness for you three.

"Let's get that process started."

All Harry knew was that he had gained a new friend that day.


	4. Chapter 3: Ceremonies and a Stone

4- The Happenings: 1991 to 1992

A.N.

Thanks for the reviews so far :D For the disclaimer, we urge you to look at the prologue.

For those of you who have been asking, the crossover universe unites both Harry Potter and a world which was presented to us from 1988 to 1990 – the TV series Beauty and the Beast starring Ron Perleman, Linda Hamilton and created by Ron Koslow. Few books were written about the series, but those of us who were fans fell in love with this romantic story, especially Vincent, a beast with the heart and soul of a poet and a gentle nature. There are some good fanfiction stories under TV Series Beauty and the Beast.

And now, to our tale we shall go...

* * *

_Interlude 1: June 1991_

The letter refused to print with an address.

_Harry Potter..._

Automatically set up to spit out a warning with any glitch in the process, the unaddressed letter awaited Minerva McGonagall's hand to pick it up and scan it.

This was followed moments later by rapid steps to the Headmaster's office.

* * *

"What do you mean 'unknown'?" McGonagall asked Albus Dumbledore.

Dumbledore's face looked older and sadder than she had ever seen it since the days of the Potters' deaths.

"I had devices tracking young Harry since I had placed him with his aunt," he replied in a low tone. "When I came back from the ICW conference two years ago, the devices were sill except for the one monitoring his health. That still shows Harry is alive and well."

"But you have no idea where he is?"

"No, Minerva, I do not. I can only hope and pray that when the call for the Sorting hat goes out that young Mr. Potter will be here to take his place with his age peers."

* * *

_September 1st, 1991_

"Potter, Harry!" Professor McGonagall's voice rang out.  
The crowded hall fell silent when the name of Harry Potter was called out. However, there was no accompanying movement of a first year to the hat and stool in the front of the Great Hall.

"Potter, Harry!" McGonagall's voice repeated. There was still no response.

Now the buzz of conversation began to rise. The Boy Who Lived was definitely not here at Hogwarts.

"Potter, Harry!" came the third call with no corresponding movement.

The hall was now awash with conversation as McGonagall waited for another few seconds before calling the next name on her list. The rumours would begin that evening fueling speculation for months on the possible and probable fate of the missing Potter heir. And almost immediately, attention would turn to the white haired wizard with too many titles who had assured the wizarding world only ten years before that Harry Potter was safe.

What could he say now?

* * *

_The World Below, New York City_

_October 1991, The Hall_

"So you've been hiding this underground world from me all these months and even years: without saying one word?" Susan asked her sister as they were rearranging the white bridal gown.

Diana only blushed and tried to bury herself in the details of the dress.

"Diana, he's gorgeous. And his son, what a beautiful child."

"Where did my niece leave him?" Diana asked, looking around for Susan's black haired daughter.

"Oh, she's playing with him and Harry," Susan replied. "Don't move – and don't try to change the topic. I'm just upset that you let us tease you for the past two years about when you would get serious about a relationship and voila, you had to spring this on me without allowing me to tell anyone else about Vincent and Jacob."

"Susan, would they have believed me? Would they believe you?"

Susan now looked pensive as she was adjusting her sister's gown. "No, I doubt it," she finally said, giving a critical eye to the dress. "I'm not sure how long the dress will stay on, sis. Vincent's eyes look like he would undress you right there."

Diana grew pensive as she looked at her older sister. "Susan, if you knew how much pain Vincent had gone through, you'd marvel that he would be willing to love again. And that he would fall in love with me, a thin, bean sprout whose only redeeming features are long auburn hair…."

"Diana, stop that," Susan replied. "I heard Vincent describe you as Raphael's inspiration, a goddess with soulful eyes and a great heart.

"Besides, that young Harry says you're the closest thing to a mother he had ever known. And Jacob already calls you Momma."

Diana's heart was breaking as she thought of all the warmth and love she had received , both from the community, from Father and from the new men in her life. "It's like a fairy tale, Susan, and I am afraid that I will wake up and it will all be gone.

"Besides, they still don't know how to make good coffee down here."

Both sisters descended into fits of laughter at Diana's sudden comment.

* * *

"We as a community have experienced joy and pain; wonder and despair. These last few years have seen us plummet into pain and exult with the miracle of new life and new love.

"We mourned the death of a dear and loved friend and shared in the pain of loss. Then we shared in the pain of separation and searching, only to welcome anew the child of that love, Jacob Wells, my grandson.

"We welcomed the arrival of our British visitor who stands here today as witness to the birth of a new love, not forsaking the old, but demonstrating that the heart will go on.

"And now, we stand here, in this chamber, to witness the joining of this woman and this man; two who have given so much to our community and who continue to give today.

"Let us stand with them as they join their lives together: Vincent and Diana."

* * *

_Interlude 2: October 31st, 1991_

For Hermione, the _Wingardium Leviosa_ blowup with Ronald bloody Weasely was the last straw. She had been frozen out of many contacts with fellow students due to her blood status; been annoying to her fellow Gryffindors due to her admittedly bad habits of showing them up as poor students; but today, to be told that she was a nightmare was the point of no return.

She had had such great hopes once she had discovered she was a witch: she would finally fit in and belong. However, she had discovered the phenomena of bullying and hatred of intelligence was the same in the magical world as it was in the non magical one.

Sitting in this abandoned girls lavatory, once the tears had stopped falling, she had come to a sad, but she felt, mature conclusion. She would ask her parents to pull her out of Hogwarts during the Christmas holiday. She would not have too much material to make up in her non magical studies and she thought she would be back on track with her studies by Easter.

The sudden smell which assailed her nose preceded, by only 30 seconds, the entrance of a tall, poorly clad being with only a passing resemblance to a human being. With a shock, she recognized what was pushing into the washroom: a genuine mountain troll.

And she was about to die a very painful death.

Even as she began to back up towards the wall behind her, Hermione couldn't stop her mind reciting the facts that trolls were generally resistant to magic, that they had the intelligence of a cow and that few wizards could survive an encounter with a troll without help. The troll, meanwhile, had entered the lavatory completely now and was advancing on the retreating girl. She had stopped screaming and could only duck when the troll made a sudden swing with his club. She felt the blow more than saw it as the club grazed her shoulder and the force of the hit raised her up in the air before she came crashing down on the floor. Blackness swallowed her seconds later and she did not feel the subsequent collapse of the stall on top of her as the troll's attention was drawn towards reducing the furniture in the lavatory.

Nor did she hear the hexes and curses fired at the troll moments later by the Hogwarts' staff which finally brought it down.

* * *

"She is a very fortunate young lady," Poppy Pomphrey told Albus. "How did the troll not kill her?"

"It seemed that it got distracted after the initial hit," he replied, looking much older than his years. This was not a great night for Hogwarts'. "It began to destroy the stalls and unfortunately buried young Miss Granger under some of the debris."

"Well, Albus, she has a broken shoulder, a broken arm and one broken leg," Poppy replied. "All of these injuries are treatable and she would normally be ready to be returned to her dormitory by the end of the week.

"But what I am concerned about is the trauma to her – and what her parents are going to say when she tells them."

"The young are always so resilient," Albus said. "I am certain that with your traditionally high standards of care Miss Granger will make a complete return to health and will be able to put this rare occurrence in a proper perspective."

"Albus, she needs to meet with a mind healer at St. Mungo's."

He shook his head. "And you know as well as I that they would refuse to help her as she is a Muggleborn."

"Then how do you propose to help her deal with the trauma…no, Albus, that will solve nothing."

He had withdrawn his wand as she had been speaking and was even now beginning to make gestures above the unconscious young girl. "This is for the greater good, Poppy: for her, for her parents, and for the school.

"Obliviate."

* * *

_The World Below, New York City  
January 1992, The Lakeside Cavern_

The torches along the tunnel walls filled the cavern with an orange glow which was reflected off the pool of water and the faces of the surrounding crowd. The water was as still as the cavern was silent with only the sputtering of the flames making any sound, but the black water reflected the light of not only the torches, but the candles held in the hands of each member of the tunnel community.

"In one of our most sacred traditions, we gather in this place to welcome a new member to our community," the voice of Dr. Jacob Wells, known in the World Below as Father, broke the stillness of the cavern.

"Harry, you came to us in a mysterious way and in great need. You have guarded our secrets, embraced our members and become a member of this community.

"Please join me at the water's edge."

Harry moved forward, his green eyes bright in the candles' light. Four other people moved forward with him, each laying a hand on his shoulders.

"Today, the word came into Diana's office that official approval for Harry's adoption has been received. So today, we welcome you, Harry, officially into our community.

"Normally, when we welcome one into our community in a naming ceremony, our new community member is a baby, unable to speak for himself or herself. However, Harry, you can speak for yourself and you have asked for four people to stand with you as you take your place among us.

Harry's voice was loud and clear, the emotion evident in his tone.

"I call upon my witnesses Joe and Jenny Maxwell. I call upon my adoptive parents Diana and Vincent Wells.

"I call upon you four to stand with me on this day."

Each in turn squeezed Harry's shoulder in response. "We stand with you, Harry," they intoned.

Father smiled at the five gathered at the water's edge. "We welcome a child into our community. We welcome a child with love, that he may be able to love. We welcome the child with gifts, that he may learn generosity.

"Finally, we welcome the child with a name." With that, he turned to Harry.

"I announce my new name for my official adoption as Harry, in honor of my birth parents; as Jacob, in honor of my younger brother and my new grandfather; as Vincent, in honor of my father.

"I claim my name as Harry Jacob Vincent Wells."

Tears could be seen in the eyes of many around the gathered six at the water's edge and in the eyes of the six themselves. Harry had surprised them again: he had requested to keep the choice of any new name quiet until the ceremony this evening.

Harry and his new parents embraced one another before Joe and Jenny copied them. Finally it was the turn of Harry and his new grandfather.

"You have honored me and your father this evening, Harry," Father said, whispering in Harry's ear.

"You've given me so much and helped me begin to heal," Harry replied, tears running down his cheek.

"Welcome to the family, Harry," Diana whispered next.

Harry looked at her strangely and then smiled. "Mom,' he said, trying it out for the first time.

"Thanks Mom…and Dad."

* * *

_Interlude 3: June 26th, 1992_

Albus had never been so happy to see the end of the school year as he was this year. The year which had begun with the failure of the Boy-Who-Lived to appear and the resulting questions from Fudge, the DMLE, the Wizengamot and Rita Skeeter had only continued to go from bad to worse.

He knew he had dodged a few spells this year and still felt his immediate obliviation of the Granger girl following the incident with the troll was one of his more inspired moves. Removal of the offending memory of the horrific experience in the girls' lavatory would surely help the young witch to heal although McGonagall had expressed her disbelief at his action when she had gone on to query her star young lion about coping with the memories.

That despite continued reports that Miss Granger had become withdrawn and hesitant in class and in the school hallways suggested that his treatment of this issue was correct. It was always a wise move for young students to be more careful around magic and Miss Granger's new attitude boded well for her future fitting in with the wizarding world. Now, if he could only think of which pureblood house could benefit from her intelligence and obvious magical ability.

Hagrid had proved to be a major annoyance this year with the near destruction of his hut when his dragon egg hatched and the placing of students in danger with his hunt for whatever was killing the unicorns of the forest. Still, he had managed to quell Ministry attempts to discover the truth to the rumors of the dragon in the school and Hagrid was safe for another year.

The biggest disappointment for Dumbledore was the issue with the Stone. He had held out the existence of the stone at the welcoming feast and his wards had detected numerous attempts to break the security on the door, but with Fluffy the Cerebus in place, no student appeared to be willing to go further. And of course, the test was set up with young Mr. Potter in mind and with his absence, he, Dumbledore, had been forced to intervene to keep Quirrell from seizing the stone. So, one of his first attempts to force a confrontation between Voldemort and Harry went nowhere.

The only things left to do was to clean up the mess of Quirrell's body in the third floor dungeon and to begin the thankless task of searching anew for where Harry Potter would be.

As well, it was time to once again search for a new DADA instructor. Perhaps students would appreciate the good looks and sterling personality of GIlderoy Lockhart...

* * *

A/N: So once again, please review :D Whether it be grammar or factual corrections, constructive critisism, or just a sentence saying what you thought, we love to hear from you :) 'Til next time guys :D ~The Writing Warriors


	5. Chapter 4: Snake Talk

5-1992-1993 Hogwarts/New York

Disclaimer

We refer you to chapter 1 of this story. Reviews are welcome, flames are used to make cocktail wienies

A/N ~ refers to parseltongue

* * *

_Hogwarts, September 1992_

_ Dear Tom_

_ He's not here. The boy that my mother told me I was meant for, my other half: the boy-who-lived, Harry Potter, is not here. He was supposed to be here for me._

_**But I am here for you. It is like I was trying to tell you. No one cares for you like I do.**_

_Tom, what am I doing? I can't imagine what life would be like without Harry, my Harry._

_**Is there not a reward for the person who can find Harry Potter? Why not work with me to see what we can find together? If we can present Harry Potter to Dumbledore and the Minister, then even Harry would realize how special you are. After all, I am as interested in this Boy-Who-Lived as you are.**_

* * *

The excitement among the tunnel children was palpable. Diana and Mary, the two designated adults for this expedition to the NYC Zoo, were convinced that the excitement was something that could be bottled up and sold.

Still, even she was excited. This was Jacob's first formal trip above as part of a tunnel children's' tour. He was still a few months shy of his fourth birthday, but his intelligence and understanding was levels above those for a normal three year old. Diana wondered if he was somehow imbibing the contents of his father's library by IV lines: his vocabulary belonged to a child twice or three times his age.

She glanced back at Harry's distinctive black mop as he was bent over trying to restrain his younger brother. While Jacob's language and vocabulary might be in advance for his age, his energy level was very much all three to four years old.

She thanked her stars anew for the presence of the older boy. While Harry was blossoming under the love and attention of his new family and the surrounding community, the relationship between Harry and Jacob just seemed to grow ever deeper. It was as if the two boys, somehow aware that they were not ordinary children, had decided to help each other out with exploring their growing abilities.

That Harry was not normal; Diana and Vincent were now solidly convinced. There were too many unexplained events that occurred when Harry got involved. Toys suddenly appearing where before they were lost, the successful prediction of Joe and Jenny's young daughter's birth; the fact of his arrival in New York City from Britain; the arrival of Harry's missing school file: all pointed out to some unique abilities in their now twelve year old son. But neither she nor Vincent were concerned: Vincent had shared his opinion early that of all the places for young Harry to come, he had to come to the home of parents who were themselves empaths and in Vincent's case, something beyond human knowledge.

And it was now clear to both parents that Jacob, while outwardly human in appearance, shared many traits with his father: from his unusual blood and quick healing abilities to the bond that he and Vincent shared. Jacob as well was not 'normal' as humanity defined normal.

Marshaling all twenty tunnel children, the two woman led them towards the nearest sheltered exit to the world above. It was a familiar route for Diana and she couldn't help comparing her first foray into the tunnels to the ease by which she now. She couldn't help chuckling as she remembered her flashlight and chalk trying to mark her way back to the entry way to Catherine's basement.

All too soon, the small group had emerged into the protection of a shelter near Central Park's merry go round and now she and Mary's attention was focused on keeping everyone all together. From there to the Central Park Zoo took only a few minute's walk and then her charges were inside and were free to explore.

* * *

It was in the Tropic Zone where the reptiles were housed that Harry encountered voices. He had been walking with Jacob, pointing out the various birds and animals which would normally inhabit the tropics. Jacob had oohed at the parrots and aahhed at the frogs. But it was as they were approaching the reptile displays that Harry heard distinct voices.

~Another bunch of two legs running through.~ said a voice with almost an Indian accent.

~You would like nothing better than just being able to bite them.~ another voice said in what Harry thought was a Latino accent. ~Me, I just want them to come close and then allow me to encircle them. One good anchor, one long squeeze and lunch for the next two weeks.~

By now, Harry was in front of the snake displays and he swore he could associate the Indian accent with the snake labeled "King Cobra" while the Latino accent came from a snake labeled "Anaconda."

Jacob was initially interested in the snakes, but when they refused to perform for him, he saw his step mother Diana and walked off to greet her, thus leaving Harry alone with the two serpents. They were continuing to discuss the passersby and as Harry looked on, the cobra caught sight of him.

~That human looks like he understands me.~ it said. Looking directing at Harry and flicking his tongue at him, it began to rise in a rhythmic motion. ~Do you hear me, two-legs? Do you understand?~

Harry nodded. ~I never knew snakes could speak to people.~

The cobra flared to life and stood even taller. ~A speaker. This is something I have only heard about, but never thought I would see.~

Jacob had seen the movement of the cobra and had pulled his mother back with him to watch the display. Harry's attention was focused on the serpent and thus he was not aware of his new audience.

~How do you stand up like that?~ he asked.

A sense of regret could now be heard in the reptile's voice. ~I was once trained by a master snake charmer who used the most entrancing tunes to get me to dance for him: and the rewards were nice too. I don't dance as I used to because no one appreciates a cobra who has good moves.~

~I would love to see you dance, Mr. Cobra,~ Harry replied. ~Could you please for me?~

Diana was stunned at the display before her. Harry was hissing at the king cobra in front of him and the snake was hissing back. Then the cobra began to sway in a fluid motion back and forth as if it was going to strike, but which Diana recognized quickly as the movements a cobra would make under a snake charmer's flute.

This 'dance' continued for a few seconds and then Jacob began clapping his excitement at the moving snake. This startled Harry and he turned away to see Diana, Jacob and a few of his other friends from the tunnels watching the snake with avid interest.

"Harry, thank you for helping to arrange such a helpful display," Diana said more calmly than she felt. "Unfortunately, we have to visit the other parts of the zoo before we return below."

Harry glanced back at the cobra and said quietly. ~Thanks, Mr. Cobra, for the dance.~

~Finally, a human who appreciates me,~ the cobra replied. ~Come back and visit anytime.~

* * *

Diana waited until the group had returned to the tunnels before first speaking to Vincent about the strange events of the afternoon and then calling Harry to speak to them.

"Harry," she began. "Were you aware that you were hissing at that snake?"

"Hissing?" he looked confused. "It was speaking to me with an Indian accent."

"And how did you begin talking to the cobra?"

"I heard voices and when I got closer, it looked like the cobra and the anaconda across the hall were complaining about the people who were coming in. Then I saw it and it saw me looking at it and we just started talking from there.

"It said that it had missed dancing and moving with his snake charmer, so I just asked it to show me what it could do.

"Was that okay?" A note of worry now appeared in Harry's voice.

Diana again cursed whoever the Dursleys were. It was obvious that this was another one of Harry's strange gifts showing up, yet they could not explore it quickly because those Dursleys had attacked Harry for any manifestation of "not normal" behavior.

It was here that Vincent stepped in to save the day. "In the legends of some tribes, Harry, special gifted people could speak to snakes. In places like India where there are many snakes including ones that are poisonous to people, someone who could speak to snakes would be highly prized.

"We have less need here because of where we live and the fact that New York City does not have a large snake population."

"So I am not a freak for talking to snakes?" Harry looked at the both of them, his eyes moist.

"No, Harry, no more than I am a freak for how I look," Vincent replied as he embraced his oldest son.

"Well then, you might think I am a freak when I tell you that Diana is going to have a daughter and she will look a lot like her and Jacob," the twelve year old boy said from the shelter of Vincent's arms.

Vincent's eyes went immediately to his wife who colored red under his gaze. "That's two for two, Harry," Diana said. "I was going to tell you, Vincent, but I wanted Father to make sure."

Vincent's heart filled with the love he felt for this woman who had entered his life and heart only a few years ago. "You share great news, Harry," he said, ruffling his son's raven black mop. "Your mother and I will welcome this new ….sister and I hope that both you and Jacob can watch out for her and protect her."

He reached for his wife and drew her into their embrace. Even as Diana sank into her husband's strong arms and her oldest son's embrace, she welcomed anew Harry's arrival. He had found a way for her to share the news and if his prediction proved true, confirmed her unborn child's gender. With this news, Harry's snake encounter became just another strange event around their British child.

* * *

"You can't obliviate her again, Albus," Poppy Pomphrey, Hogwarts' medi-witch, said looking at the body of the young Granger girl laid out on the hospital bed. "Too many obliviations can destroy a young mind."

Dumbledore sadly nodded his head. He was not happy with the fact that Miss Granger had been placed in life threatening situations twice in two years and felt that when her parents heard the news on this happening they would probably pull their only daughter out of the school. But he had bigger concerns on his mind, chief of which was how to maintain his place at the school. With the petrifications and the warnings written on the school walls about the Heir of Slytherin and mudbloods needing to beware, the calls were mounting on the part of the Board of Governors to close the school until the issue of the Chamber of Secrets could be solved. And while he had some ideas, he was no closer to a solution than he had been the first time the Chamber had been opened.

It was as Poppy was moving the frozen body of Miss Granger that his eye caught a glimpse of paper in her hand. Miss Granger had obviously had something in her hand when she had been frozen on the way back from the library. And while she was no longer the pushy know-it-all she had been in her first year prior to the incident with the troll, she had still demonstrated raw intelligence and intellectual ability far in advance of almost every other student at the school.

Prying her hands open, Dumbledore gently pulled out a crumpled page of a library book which he immediately recognized from Scamander's book _Fantastical Beasts._ The page was underlined in Miss Granger's distinctive writing and beside the word basilisk, she had written _pipes._

Of course, he thought to himself. It had to be a basilisk and the basilisk would probably gain access to various parts of the castle through the pipes. That suggested that the Chamber of Secrets was somewhere connected to the pipe system of the castle. Much as it pained him to admit it, he thought to himself, he would have to bring Amelia Bones and the DMLE in on this because a basilisk was more than what he himself could face alone.

* * *

Diana sat back in Peter Alcott's office. When she thought back to her career aspirations a few years ago, the highlight of her life would have been to continue exactly what she had been doing and having the freedom even more than before to pick and choose the cases she wanted. Now, here she was, having her pregnancy being checked by a doctor she had grown to know and love; discussing her eldest son's nutritional requirements and enjoying it.

Both Joe and Vincent had insisted that she restrict her caseload to cases she could work from a distance and a number that would allow her to ensure that her home life balanced out her tendency to become a hermit when she was in detective mode. She had initially objected: she knew that she was good at her job and every blow that she struck against evil was a blow for good.

But now she was enjoying a part time schedule and she was taking advantage of meetings with doctors and her sister to explore a more domestic side of life than she had ever considered before.

"Diana," Dr Peter Alcott gently reminded. "You need to return to earth now."

She shook her head at his gentle remonstrance. "Just thinking of how far I've come since meeting Vincent," she smiled. "So what about Harry?"

"I'm convinced that the healthy meals he's getting from William below had reversed all the malnutrition he has experienced in his life before," Peter began. "He will still be undersized somewhat, but he is growing normally and is putting on the right amount of weight."

"Vincent insists that he engage in lots of physical exercise. He has a finely developed sense of balance, but I suspect that he would never have been one of those muscular young men."

"I agree with you there. As for your young child, things are going well there too. I have the reports from the ultrasound. Would you like to know the gender?"

"Let me guess: a girl."

Peter looked startled. "Well….yes. She is a girl."

"We had an inside source," was Diana's iconic reply.

"Have you considered a name yet?"

Diana blushed at the question. She had chosen a name for her unborn daughter and only last night she had shared it with her husband. At the sound of that name, he had broken down in her arms and wept openly.

"Yes….Catherine."

It was Peter's turn to swallow a few times. "Fitting and one I believe will be very welcome to the tunnel community."

"She is the reason we came together in the first place." was Diana's reply.

"And how are the boys taking to the soon arrival of a new sister?"

"Harry is excited while Jacob says he can already hear 'her' voice. Something about their bond."

"Only you, Diana. Only you.

* * *

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was coming to detest these end of year times of reflection. For the second year in a row, he had had to expend massive amounts of magical power to face down and overcome a manifestation of Voldemort. Last year Quirrell and this year the younger form of Tom Riddle, in a body he had not seen since the last time the Chamber of Secrets had opened.

Miss Granger's stroke of inspiration was the critical element of success here, he grudgingly nodded to himself. Once he knew that he was dealing with a basilisk and that the snake was using the pipes, he was able to put the events around the incident of 50 years ago with the events of this past year together and quickly focused on the second floor girls' lavatory as the point of entry. Monitoring charms led him to Ginevra Weasley and following her led him to the Chamber of Secrets in late April where a possessed Miss Weasely had battled him for control of the diary.

Then the basilisk had emerged and it had taken all of Albus' considerable power to bring the over 60 foot snake down.

The memory of Tom Riddle that had briefly appeared had taunted the old Headmaster with the knowledge that his champion, Harry Potter, had still not been found. Of course, once Dumbledore had held the diary in his hand, he knew what he had and he knew how Voldemort had survived.

Horcruxes: the darkest form of magic possible.

He had wanted to hang on to the horcrux and correspond with the soul fragment within: the chance to deepen his understanding of Tom was tempting as well as the chance to see if he was responsible for the creation of this dark wizard, but he had had to destroy the horcrux to free Miss Weasely from its influence and possession.

The fact of Tom's presence in Miss Weasely must never be discovered and he had ensured that both the obliviation of the young first year was very thorough and that traces of the diary's dark magic had been removed from her as well. It would not do for the young Weasely girl to be tainted with the knowledge of the possession: as the first Weasely girl in several generations and as the daughter of a proud pureblood family of the light, she would be a prime playing piece for Albus' plans for advancing the growth of magical power, yet ensuring that purebloods would continue to stay on top.

It was that wish that was also the only thing holding him back from forcing Miss Granger to stay in Hogwarts. That the girl was brilliant was without question and that she could bring a fresh source of magical blood to some pureblood family was also clear: however, it was evident from the reaction of her parents to both the personality change in their daughter from her first year and the news of her petrification in this year that Miss Granger would bring an activist personality to any relationship she would form in the magical world. Much like Lily Potter, he thought to himself, and two Lily Potters would not be a good thing for the traditional wizarding world. No, while he would regret losing Miss Granger's magical power and abilities, it would rock too many boats to see the young witch stay at Hogwarts. That plus the questions her parents were asking about the quality of Hogwarts' schooling could lead to unwanted scrutiny at the school just as he was overcoming the fallout from the ongoing failure to find Harry Potter.

Where, oh where, are you Harry, he asked himself.

This summer was not going to be a good one. Continued searching for Harry, now searching for Horcruxes and the ongoing search for a new DADA instructor.


	6. Chapter 5: Voodoo and a Kiss

**A/N: Sorry this took so long to post :) We've been working like mad on our other story, _Nothing to Lose _:) You guys should go check it out.**

**But until then, without further ado, I give you chapter 5 of _Escape to New York._ Enjoy :)**

* * *

Chapter Five: Voodoo and a Kiss

_September 1st, 1993  
The Wells Chambers, The World Below_

Where was he?

It had taken weeks of reading brochures, consultations with helpers and school officials and ensuring Harry's paperwork was now in order, but finally the first day of school for Harry Jacob Wells at Village Community School had come and gone and Diana was worried.

Where was he?

Most times, in regards to his family and especially with the new miracle of love sleeping in her cradle in one corner of the chamber, Vincent did not complain about the empathic bonds that linked him with his unusual and growing family. However, watching Diana pace the chamber back and forth waiting for Harry's return, he almost wanted to be somewhere else.

Perhaps a new section of the tunnels needed to be reinforced… Still, he needed to say something.

"Diana, my love, I swear that you will wake Catherine and you know how sound a sleeper she is," he gently chided.

"He should be back by now. He's never gone that far on his own before," she shot back.

"The route to the school is a safe one and two other members of our community teach there," he replied in his maddeningly calm tone, failing to rise to the bait of her nervousness.

"He's always been comfortable with what we taught him here. Why could he not have stayed one more year and then gone to high school. It's such a natural break and change."

"Diana, Diana, you worry too much, much too much. You know as well as I that Harry is a gifted young man with great intelligence and a strong desire to learn. You know that as he has shared with us, he now feels free to excel and while our friends and helpers are gifted teachers in their own right that Harry's intelligence calls for more."

Diana sighed and sat down in the large overstuffed chair that every member of her family knew belonged to her. "I know, I know. Maybe I just miss a coffee. Maybe I'm just reacting to all this tea down here. Maybe I worry a little. But heaven knows, babe, that we are going to have to go through this again with Jacob."

Got ya, she thought to herself as Vincent flinched. His relationship with the son of his and Catherine's love was special and deep and Diana knew that he would be as worried as much about Jacob's studies up top as she was now worried about Harry. But it was just that Harry didn't know New York City as she did.

She loved her city: its vibrancy, its buildings, its culture. But it could also be an ugly place where pain, crime, fear and hate also existed. Harry was blossoming in their small community and there were few if any traces of the abused child who had joined them four years before: he had taken to exploring the depths of the tunnels with Kipper and others and she wasn't worried about those activities. Up top was a different story.

He had even formed a strong bond with their community's resident insane genius: Mouse. Mouse and Harry were working on a plan to bring electricity to their chambers so that she could finally indulge in one of her favorite, if not so secret sins: drinking coffee.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Vincent's strong hands, which had begun massaging her shoulders and upper back. How did he know what to do, she wondered and then smiled: the feelings of love were flowing back and forth between them and time faded.

Until a happy and excited thirteen year old Harry threw his books on their chamber's table with a bang.

"Mom, Dad, Village Community is brilliant!"

It was with difficulty that his two parents separated and turned to give their oldest child their undivided attention.

A few hours later, both were again settling down on the sofa they had grown to enjoy together. It was one of those rare moments in the tunnel world where all was quiet: even the pipes had only the occasional staccato burst of sound.

"He really did enjoy it and I heard from Andrea, the Grade 7 teacher there, that he impressed his teachers," Diana murmured, leaning back into the shelter of his arms. "They've done some preliminary testing and Harry's up in the top percentile."

"Look at how he began devouring books three and half years ago," Vincent chuckled, his laughter sounding like a purr from deep in his chest. "I could have told you then."

"Father thinks he might have the mind of a healer or a doctor," she continued.

"Father thinks everyone should have the mind of a doctor. Harry is more of a practical student: give him a problem and he will try to solve it. He says books of theory and philosophy put him to sleep."

"We just need to encourage him to strike out on his own path," she concluded, her last words slurred as her head drooped and soon the gentle sound of her snoring could be heard.

Vincent tightened his hold on his beloved Diana. My tiger, my lioness out to protect and promote your own cubs, he thought to himself. Our children: Jacob, Harry and now Catherine had no idea how fortunate they were.

* * *

_October 31st, 1993_  
_Gryffindor Tower, Hogwarts_

"I tell you Headmaster that Black is not here for Potter," Amelia Bones, Director of the DMLE said. "He was overheard in Azkaban muttering that he's at Hogwarts: a little impossible for a threat to Potter as no one knows where Mr. Potter is or if he is even still alive."

"So if he is not here to complete the job he started 12 years ago, then why did he attempt to break into Gryffindor Tower," Albus said, a bit testily. It had been still another fruitless summer of searching for young Harry and now he had to put up with Dementors surrounding his fortress and the dangerous criminal Sirius Black on the prowl around the castle.

"I don't know, Albus, I don't know. As for your request to remove the Dementors, while I agree with you that they do not belong near a school, I have been overruled by Cornelius. He wants to be seen to be doing something."

"Two of my students were almost killed during the last Hufflepuff quidditch practice when a group of them broke into the skies above the pitch. Their seeker, Cedric Diggory, was nearly kissed," he spat.

Bones nodded her head in agreement. "You could have heard the Howler Amos Diggory sent Cornelius all the way to the Atrium. He was absolutely livid, but Fudge is not budging. Says he wants Black found and Kissed on sight."

"I just hope you can find him quickly," he replied.

* * *

_ January 21st, 1994  
The Cavern of Winds, The World Below, _

It was during one of his periodic forays down past the cavern of the winds that Harry first made an in depth acquaintance with Narcissa, an encounter that would open up long lost memories.

He had been racing with Steven, one of his close friends from the tunnels and his friend had just begged off playing any further.

"Harry, mom wants me home to finish my school work. I might have stayed too long already," he said.

Harry's green eyes took on that pleading look that Steven could almost never resist. "Look, I'll give you a hand with your work. That stuff's easy anyway. Just one more turn around the cavern. The winds call to me and I'd love the company."

Steven was tempted, oh so tempted for a moment. But his mother had been firm in her instructions to him earlier that day. "Another time, Harry. Mom's going to kill me if I don't get going."

The sound of his friend's footsteps had faded when an especially strong gust of wind knocked Harry against a wall as he was circling around the cavern. While he was used to the currents and cross currents of the cavern of the winds, this particular gust had knocked him off his feet and his arm painfully connected with the rough rock wall.

Growing up for the past four years among these caverns had inured Harry to the occasional bump and bruise from rock walls and so at first he did not notice that the rock had scored a long cut along his arm. Instead, he got up and began racing around the cavern trying to catch the winds again: it was almost as if he was flying.

The effort of fighting the winds and a slow blood loss finally caught up with Harry and he suddenly felt vertigo that forced him to sit down along one wall of the cavern. Here the winds were less forceful and he closed his eyes to clear his head. And it was here that voices he had long forgotten came to his memory.

A stag, a big black dog.

Voices: a man's voice. "Take Harry and go." A woman's voice, "Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" A high cold voice, "Stand aside you silly girl…stand aside now." A green light and pain.

As he was sinking into a morass of memories and into despair and fear, he heard another voice with an accent he did not remember from his memories or his nightmares. But he had heard this voice before and this accent as well.

"You walk along the thin line between the living and the dead, young Harry. But it is not yet time to join them.

"Come back, come back young Harry," and with that he felt a firm but gentle hand lay hold of his right arm.

"Aieee…your blood. It burns. It sings, young Harry. Your blood sings of power and pain."

His eyes slowly opened and he took in the large form and many scarves of the blind witch, Narcissa, the black mamba who lived below the cavern of the winds and rarely ventured above into the Hub of the community. He had never spent much time with her before, as his father was not comfortable with her voodoo beliefs.

"Narcissa, why are you here?" he said in a slurred voice. His head still felt light and he now noticed the blood oozing down his shirtsleeve.

"Your pain called to me, child, and your memories of the dead and the living. But when I touch you, I feel power and pain, love and hate, good and evil. You have been touched by the lougan, the spirits, young Harry, for both good and ill."

Harry was rapidly coming to full awareness, but still felt light headed. Still he could see why his father would be uncomfortable with this woman. Looking into her blind eyes, he still felt as if she was looking directly at him.

"I don't understand," he said, trying to back away from her and rise up at the same time.

"You have dreams, child. Dreams of a life before, do you not? Dreams of sacrifice, of love, of hate, of pain? Perhaps the time you got this," she said in a singsong voice and then her hand lightly touched his scar.

With a cry, her hand jerked back as if it had been burned.

"Evil, evil most foul. Evil terrible to behold. How came you by it? How can you stand it? Yet you are too good for this evil, too powerful."

At the alarm in Harry's face, somehow blind Narcissa touched him and spoke slowly. "I will conjure some spells and candles to protect you Harry. You have much power within you: one day you will awaken and discover your true power and when you do, you must deal with this evil most foul.

"But you are safe for now," and with that she left him.

In the weeks that followed, Harry shared his experience with Narcissa as well as his dreams or perhaps memories with both of his parents. Neither could make sense of the dreams, but as time passed, it appeared the dreams did not return. Perhaps Narcissa's spells were working.

In The Temple of Bondyè, below the cavern of the winds, Narcissa continually kept a candle lit for the child of power as she now called young Harry. "You will be kept safe for now, but you will have to face the evil one day," she could be heard muttering again and again.

* * *

_June 26th,1994  
The Dark Tower, Hogwarts_

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts and now acting in his role of Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot of Magical Britain, looked down on the struggling body of one of Britain's most infamous criminals. Despite the several incarcerous charms binding his body and the silencio keeping his words unheard, the grey eyes of his former student looked at Dumbledore accusingly and he found himself responding to that clear regard with a hint of guilt.

He had thought he had known Sirius Black when, as a Marauder and then an auror with the DMLE, he had stood with James Potter against the depredations of the Death Eaters and Voldemort. But then, in the heady and dangerous days of September and October 1981, when it appeared the Dark Lord was tearing Britain apart looking for the child of prophecy and when the Potters and the Longbottoms were in hiding from him, Sirius seemed to suddenly take a larger public role, almost daring Tom to attack. And then the events of Halloween unfolded and in place of taking responsibility for the young Potter heir, Black had claimed he was going after the real killer: Peter Pettigrew.

Of course the subsequent charges against Black by Pettigrew and the deaths of Pettigrew and those innocent Muggles had sealed things for Dumbledore: Black was guilty. He had agreed with Barty Crouch that the best way to move swiftly against Black was tossing him into Azkaban: best not to give any chance for other Death Eaters to set their associate free. That it was done without a trial did not disturb Dumbledore too much: these were times of war and things had to get done.

The disposal of Black in Azkaban had removed the major legal impediment to his assuming the burden of taking care of the young Potter heir and Black's continued incarceration gave him free reign to mold and shape him: until his disappearance.

The escape almost a year ago of Black from Azkaban had generated fear in the hearts of the wizarding community, but Dumbledore was still trying to understand the comments that had been overheard by Aurors just prior to Black's escape. "He's at Hogwarts" made no sense: if Black had come to Hogwarts to finish the job he had started so long before, he should have realized that Harry Potter was not at Hogwarts. Yet Black had been seen several times in the area around Hogsmeade and Hogwarts and he had finally been captured fighting with Remus Lupin at the Shrieking Shack by none other than his own potions master, Severus Snape, only a stone's throw from the castle.

Why had Black come? He wanted to question the former Auror and current Death Eater, but Minister Fudge had decreed that he would not waste any more resources on Black and thus the Dementor's visit was set for five minutes from now.

The air suddenly grew chill and the familiar sense of despair that accompanied one of those robed and hooded demons from Azkaban increased. Black's moment of reckoning had come.

It was over so quickly that Dumbledore could literally see the light of reason and life leave Black's eyes as the kiss took place. He personally had nothing but loathing for the hooded guards of Azkaban, but admitted that their form of justice was swift and merciful, if you called living for a few days as a soulless husk a mercy.

"Throw the body through the veil," Dumbledore heard Fudge command the Ministry executioner McNair. "I do not want to waste another knut on feeding and housing a soulless body.  
"Save burial fees as well."

McNair chuckled at Fudge's comment even as Albus inwardly flinched. A crass attitude towards a task that should never be taken lightly, he decided. Fudge would have a very different attitude if he would have been on the receiving end of that kiss.

So the questions he had wanted to get answers for would have to remain unanswered forever. And another one of the Marauders gone.

At least justice was done for James and Lily. Yet as he moved to agree with Fudge and McNair, something inside moved him to speak.

"Allow me to care for the body of Sirius Black here," he found himself saying. "He should be allowed to die in familiar surroundings and be buried with dignity, even if he betrayed the Potters. After all, he was the last of the Blacks."

Fudge looked at him as if he had grown another head, but he nodded his agreement. "As long as the Ministry doesn't pay for another day of his care, I don't care."

House elves moments later had removed the soulless husk of one Sirius Orion Black to a special room off the hospital wing where he would stay for several months, only passing away on November 15, 1994 and surprising everyone with his tenacity in staying alive.

But of course, by this time, other events had replaced the simple death of an innocent man as important. Events such as the last attempt to locate one Harry Potter.

* * *

**A/N: Oooooooohh! A cliffie! Yeah, we went there :P**

So while you're waiting so see what's at the bottom of said aformentioned cliffie, why don't you go check out this amazing story I found called _Nothing To Lose,_written by a supermegafoxyawesomehot writers group? ;) You'll find the link on our profile :)

Till next time guys :)

** .Potter**


	7. Chapter 6: Death of the Living

**A/N: So we meet again :) This is our last 'Hogwarts Era' chapter. After this, were moving forward in time a bit. As always, if you see any grammatical, factual, or spelling errors, please tell us so we can fix them with greater efficiency. Normal reviews and critisism are appreciated to, but flames will be used to...let's be creative and bake scones. Flames shall be used to make scones. :)**

**Also, the section immedeatly succeeding this one is a general review response and background information source. It is part of this A/N, but seperated.**

Finally, it should be noted that the entire chapter takes place on October 31st, 1994.

**Now then, if we may procceed...**

* * *

_**Yes, we know. Sirius is dead. This story is meant to be an AU of what would happen if Harry Potter never went to Hogwarts, but grew up away from the wizarding world altogether until an accidental encounter with ? (See a couple of chapters from now).**_

_**Yes, we do see Albus Dumbledore as a manipulative old fool. No, we do not see Albus as such a manipulative old fool that he would seek to kill Sirius as soon as possible. One consequence of having Sirius out and about, but not having a Harry to interact with is that there is less reason for Albus to keep Sirius around. At the same time, we assume in this fic that Albus was not aware of the switch of secret keepers. Thus he truly believes Sirius is guilty and thus has little objection to the Kiss although he does not like Dementors.**_

_**And yes, he will find out in a year's time that Sirius Black was not guilty: that he was innocent. This will trouble him but as we have seen in other issues, while he may personally regret having made people suffer through his decisions (witness his conversation with Harry in OoTP), he does not change his course as he is convinced that it is best "for the greater good."**_

_**As well, in many of the fanfics we have read, the starting point is that Sirius dies or is dead and Harry is dealing with the emotional aftermath of that death. In this story, the future discovery that Albus Dumbledore assisted in the death of his godfather proves to be an additional wedge between the two men.**_

_**We are really interested in exploring how a Harry who has grown up away from the wizarding world until the age of 20 will come into his own, learn about magic from a source not often explored, and deals with Albus while refusing to be put back into Albus' plans.**_

_**So, if you mourn the death of Sirius, so do we. He is a lovable character, but in this story, unfortunately, he has a tragic fate.**_

**Now that that's out of the way, without further ado...i give you...**

* * *

Chapter Six: The Death of the Living

_**11:00 AM EST  
The Temple of Bondyè , The World Below**_

The dreams had been disturbing of late for Narcissa, the voodoo priestess. The spirits were disturbed everything pointed to a major disturbance and crisis for the young boy for which she had been praying and burning a candle since the spring.

Tonight would mark a critical time in the life of the child of power, young Harry, the adopted son of Vincent and Diana.

Even now, she still marveled that they had no idea who Harry was or the power that destiny would call him to yield. She could tell what he was, but he would have to survive the events of this night. If he did, the future looked incredibly bright and the shadows that darkened his future would be removed.

The soft voice of Vincent calling her name penetrated the distant howl of the winds. Good, the blind mambo thought. I only hope that she came as well.

"Narcissa," Vincent repeated, now sounding closer. "You sent Diana and I a message that you needed to see us? We have come."

A sigh of relief came to Narcissa. Yes, the fae-touched woman was here as well. She could walk where Vincent could not; reach the boy in time before the dark curse came. Now if they could only believe.

"Children," she began in her singsong voice as the couple moved into her chamber. "The spirits are calling you and we do not have much time. One whom you love is in danger: a dark curse comes."

Diana had only met the voodoo priestess a handful of times. But, even with her criminal psychological training and her practical mindset, she recognized Narcissa as a woman of power in her own right. At the Haitian woman's words, a chill gripped her heart.

Vincent however spoke first. "Narcissa, what riddle are you suggesting now? We have come: what do you mean by a dark curse?"

Diana's mind was making intuitive leaps and an irrational fear blossomed in her heart. "She means Harry, Vincent. Something's coming, something bad."

"Touched by the fae you are, child of Erin, woman of flame, huntress," Narcissa's voice continued in a stronger singsong tone. "Your child whom you have taken in out of the greatness of your hearts is a child of destiny, of power. However, great evil and great good war within him. A dark curse comes, will even be cast within the hour and if you are not there to greet it and him, your son will die.

"I have been praying the spirits for your son. Your love for him is deep; his for you is equally deep. Yours is the love that can heal him and bring him back: back to life, back to love."

With a sudden movement, Narcissa grabbed Diana's hands and held them tightly, her blind eyes seeming to carefully inspect the auburn haired woman.

"Go to the child now, huntress. He needs what only you can give now. Go now…the curse stirs even now. It is about to be cast.

"Go or you will not have time."

With that, she let Diana's hands go and turned away back into the mists, leaving behind a bemused set of parents.

Diana thought quickly and realized she believed the black mamba's words. "I don't know how I know, Vincent, but I believe her and I think I should get to Harry's school as soon as possible."

Vincent's reaction was more mixed. He did not know what to think of this woman: her voodoo beliefs, candles and chanting repelled him. But she had helped him more than once and even helped his Catherine in a critical time. As well, he had grown to trust Diana's instincts.

"Go and Godspeed, my heart. Make sure that our son is well," he said, and with that his wife turned and moved as quickly as she could back to the Hub and then the route to Harry's school.

* * *

_**5:55 PM GMT  
The Great Hall, Hogwarts**_

The Great Hall was filled to overflowing with the students of three schools all waiting with bated breath for the drawing of the three names. Only Albus Dumbledore and Alastor Moody knew that there would be riskier events tried that evening.

_ After four years of active searching, no sign of the lost Harry Potter had surfaced. No hint of a black haired boy with green eyes and a lightning bolt scar had been seen or heard from. It was as if Harry Potter had dropped off the face of the earth._

_ It had taken Albus a year of research to find the ritual known as Sanguis Vocatio, or the Blood Call. He was now glad that he had visited the Dursleys so long ago and had gathered some dried blood that could only have belonged to Harry Potter from the cupboard under the stairs. Even now, he refused to think about how that blood had arrived there. Surely it had simply been an accident. But he would use that blood now._

_ The ritual was simplicity in itself. He had placed Harry's name ,in blood, in the Goblet of Fire under the school name Pigfarts, with the understanding that the Goblet would call his name and then the magic of the Goblet and the call of his blood would force Harry to step forward and finally take his place in the wizarding world._

_ That Harry was too far away to be able to respond did not even cross the Headmaster's mind._

_ That and what penalty the Goblet would exact should Harry not appear was also far from Albus' thoughts._

* * *

**_12:55 PM EST  
Village Community Middle School, New York_**

While there were few signs of the gold and orange displays that decorated the stores of commercial New York down below, there was no mistaking the excitement and thrill of the planned celebrations for the festival of Samhain among the tunnel folk. There were whispers of a special visitor from Ireland, someone who had not been there for some time, and of course, the discussions in the Bennett-Wells family also centered on the annual Masque ball to which both Vincent and Diana had been invited.

Since the entry of Joe Maxwell and his wife, Jenny Aronson, into the secret of the World Below, communications between the DA's office and the Hub were now regular events. Of course, with Diana naming Joe and Jenny as godparents for their first child Catherine, the relationship between the two families grew close and Joe relished his role as "Uncle Joe".

So it was no surprise that Joe and Jenny had invited both Vincent and Diana to their annual Masque. It allowed Vincent his one yearly opportunity to walk unmasked among the people of the upper city and it allowed him to show off his blushing auburn haired wife without the pressures of being on the council and guiding young children.

Of course, this left much more responsibility upon the oldest member of the Bennett-Wells family. Harry Jacob Vincent Wells still rolled the name in his mind. While he had been reluctant to let go of the name Harry James Potter, this new name represented for him a new beginning and an acceptance as just Harry rather than freak or boy. He had chosen this name just before the adoption ceremony and the pleased look of love and surprise on the face of his grandfather, "Father Jacob Wells", as well as the approval of Vincent and Diana sealed his choice for him. He had chosen this name and he would bear it proudly going forward.

That he was now an official US citizen also hammered his new situation home for him. He had a family, a country, a new name: he was a new person. They accepted him, even with his occasional strange 'incidents' and he was loved.

Tonight he would have exercise some family responsibility. It was his task to look after young Jacob and baby Catherine: the Halloween party would actually begin the next evening when Brigitte came to tell Celtic Samhain stories. For now, however, he would have to survive the pumpkin carving contest that, as a new Grade 9, he would undergo that afternoon.

* * *

_**6:00 PM GMT  
The Great Hall, Hogwarts**_

"Welcome, one and all to the drawing of names for the right to compete in the Tri Wizard Tournament," Albus Dumbledore began. "All entries have been made and now we call upon the Goblet of Fire to call forth the champions."

_ With a flash of fire, the Goblet exploded and a piece of parchment rose up and floated into Dumbledore's hand. He opened it and called out, "The first Tri Wizard champion, competing for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour."_

_ "I would ask all champions to remain with their schools until all names have been called."_

_ As the slim blond young woman stood to polite clapping from the students of other schools, Hermione Granger, now wearing the blue of Beauxbatons, thought of how the worm turned. She had fled Hogwarts due to the dangers here and yet here she was, returning as a Beauxbations student, in the school she had left only 16 months before. Yet if anyone deserved to represent Beauxbations, it was Fleur._

* * *

**_1:00 PM EST  
Village Community Middle School, New York_**

Harry was sitting with Steven, his tunnel friend and Bill, his study buddy from the peer helping group he had been placed in. Why had the peer helpers, a group tasked with helping freshmen to integrate into high school easily, waited until this afternoon to hold the pumpkin carving contest, he did not know. Perhaps it was because of the fact Halloween was a Monday and no one wanted pumpkins to stay in the school over the weekend previous. Or perhaps it was for another reason.

Still the peer helpers were now bringing out the pumpkins and the knives for carving, all very carefully supervised of course.

* * *

_**6:03 GMT  
The Great Hall, Hogwarts**_

Again the Goblet exploded and another parchment flew into the air. A deft catch and Dumbledore's voice called out, "For Hogwarts, the Tri Wizard champion is Cedric Diggory." The Hufflepuff student stood to loud applause from his house and polite applause from his school and the other students present.

* * *

_**1:03 PM EST  
New York**_

Diana's breath was coming in gasps as she walked/ran along the row of brownstones one block from the school Harry was attending. The sense of urgency had not diminished, indeed it had grown and somehow she knew whatever was coming was coming soon. But she could see glimpses of the school building from where she was walking and soon had turned the corner and begun the climb of the stairs to the school's office.

She hoped she would be in time though she had no idea what she was supposed to do yet.

* * *

_**6:05 PM GMT  
The Great Hall, Hogwarts**_

The third Champion for Durmstrang, Viktor Krum, had just been called and everyone's attention looked towards the call for the three champions to exit and receive their instructions from the judges and the tournament organizers. That was of course until the Goblet emitted a red flame, a loud explosion and a fourth parchment flew into the air. Dumbledore caught it and slowly opened it; aware that everyone's eyes were on him.

_ "It appears that the Goblet of Fire has called a fourth champion. Harry Potter."_

_ His voice took on power and a visible aura could now be seen around the old man. "I call upon blood and magic to bring forth Harry Potter to this hall. So mote it be!"_

_ There was a massive flare of power from the cup and from Dumbledore and then all who were there could see a pulse of power move at high speed out from the hall._

_ With that the Goblet dimmed and all sound ceased. Dumbledore next spoke in a normal sounding voice. "I would ask the three TriWizard Champions already present to join us in the adjoining hall." With that he rose and was followed by the champions, their heads of school and the tournament organizers._

* * *

_**1:15 PM EST  
Village Community Middle School, New York**_

Harry had been paying attention to the instructions being given by the lead Peer Helper. Any moment the word would be given and the carving contest would begin and he had already convinced his small group of the design he wanted them to use.

Then he felt it.

It began first as a slight tug on him and it seemed to be pulling him towards the east wall of the cafeteria.

Unsure of what was happening, he lowered his hands to the seat of the cafeteria bench and gripped tightly. An unformed "No!" crossed his mind.

What happened next no one was able to completely recall. Harry felt himself being ripped from the bench all the while struggling to stay seated and stationary. Those around him told him later that he was crying out, "No! No! I won't go! Get your hands off me."

He was being pulled to the eastern wall of the cafeteria and once he had let go of the bench, he felt himself flying towards the wall, hitting it with a thud.

The pull was growing exponentially stronger with each second and Harry felt strong waves of compulsion and an overwhelming urge to surrender to the pull. It was seductive and strong and an element of it was calling to him, almost feeling as if it was him.

Yet at the same time visions flashed in his mind: Kipper and the meeting for the first time in Chinatown; meeting Father and receiving his first hug; walks with Jacob; the naming ceremony and calling out "Harry Jacob Vincent Wells"; holding his new sister Catherine for the first time; being hugged by his mom.

And at that moment, he knew that she was there with him. Diana had somehow made it to the school and was holding onto him, hugging him, crying his name even as the pull intensified.

And with a snap, it let go, taking part of him with it.

Diana was trying to explain her reason for requesting to see Harry when the call came from the cafeteria of a disturbance involving Harry Wells and some force pulling him to the cafeteria wall. Looking at the secretary, she flashed her badge and put on her official face.

"That is my son and I am going down to see him now. If you have any problems, we'll talk later."

With that she turned and moved quickly down the hall.

The sight that greeted her was chaos. Benches were overturned and various freshmen and senior students were huddled around one end of the cafeteria while she could see Harry being held spread eagled against the eastern wall. She swore she could see a glow around him and his hair was standing on end as if he were in an electrical field. Two teachers were attempting to get closer, but were obviously nervous about getting close to whatever was causing the electrical effect.

She however had no hesitation and she pushed through to him, noting in passing that she felt as she was crossing a barrier of some sort as she got close to him. By now, Harry was being lifted from the ground and she reached out and grabbed him by the leg.

Once her hand connected, she could feel a tremendous pull – a force that appeared to be able to carry her off the ground as well. But she could also feel the warring emotions within her own son and with her special empathy; she could feel the memories flowing through Harry's mind.

He loved them. He loved her. What she had secretly been hoping for had happened: to Harry, she, Vincent, Jacob, Catherine, and one other were a family.

One other? She was shocked. Where did that idea come from, she wondered. But she could not focus on that now.

She was fighting for her son. "He's mine, whoever you are. Harry Jacob Vincent Wells is my son and you can't have him," she screamed in her mind to whatever or whoever was behind that pull.

Then she turned to her son and began pulling him towards her, as the pull on the other end appeared to intensify. "I love you, son. I love you and I won't let them have you."

She heard a muffled "Mom, I love you", then a heart rending scream ""NO!" and with what she swore years later was an audible snap, the pull ceased and her son collapsed to the ground and in her arms.

However, there was no pulse and no breath. Her son Harry was dead.

* * *

_**6:30 PM GMT  
The Great Hall, Hogwarts**_

The sudden return of the magical pulse that had left a half hour before was a shock to the members of the judges, the Hogwarts staff and the tournament organizers who had gathered in the anteroom to finish off the evening with a few glasses of mead and Fire Whiskey. Albus was growing increasingly concerned: the magic of the ritual should have found young Harry by now and even now should be carrying him to Hogwarts. What he would do with the young Potter boy once he arrived was still unknown: it would depend on how much magical training he had had or if he even knew about magic.

_ He could feel the pulse of the magic returning as it crossed the wards and it appeared to be in a chaotic state. With a rush of his robes, he got up from his seat where he had been talking with Ludovic Bagman and rushed to the Great Hall where the Goblet was still standing. If young Harry Potter was coming the magic would bring him there._

_ Other curious members of his party got up and followed him to the Great Hall. What greeted them was a Goblet wreathed in dark flames and a thickening cloud of smoke and then with an explosion, the Goblet disappeared._

_ "What is the meaning of this?" Igor Karkarov questioned Dumbledore. "That ritual, those words: you invoked a blood ritual to find Harry Potter, didn't you?"_

_ "And with the Goblet exploding and disappearing?" Madame Maxime questioned._

_ "It means that the Sanguis Vocatio could not work because Mr. Potter is dead," Retired Auror Alastor Moody and current DADA instructor at Hogwarts said._

_ Albus Dumbledore could only hang his head and weep. His last chance and he had failed._

_ Harry Potter was dead._

* * *

_**1:16 PM EST  
Village Community Middle School, New York**_

"No way you're dead, Harry," Diana swore as she carefully, but efficiently lay Harry on his back. It took her only seconds to lay him out properly and then the process began: clear airway, check breathing, thirty compressions, then two breaths.

Thirty compressions.

As she was beginning CPR, she called out to the two teachers nearby. "Get me paramedics stat. Time is of the essence here. Move!"

Two breaths.

"Harry, come back to us. Come back. I think that."

Thirty compressions.

The sweat was beginning to collect on her forehead as she fell into the routine, so familiar from training, but never so important as now. Never a good idea to perform CPR on your own kids.

Two breaths.

She was sure that she had heard at least one or two ribs crack from the weight she was putting on him. And she was not a heavy person.

Thirty compressions.

Was this even working? Was Harry coming back? What would she say to Vincent?

Two breaths.

To Jacob and Catherine? To that new other?

Thirty compressions.

That was it. She must be pregnant again and she had touched the new mind of a still unborn child.

Two breaths

Check pulse. There...a hint, more than a hint. Praise the heavens, Harry had a pulse. The rise and fall of his chest, as well as the barely audible noise, confirmed a weak but improving breathing.

"Harry, you're back, you're back," she cried into his hair even as he weakly lifted an arm around her.

In what only appeared to be seconds, but was actually five minutes, the ambulance had arrived only to find a crying Harry being thoroughly embraced by his mother.

They quickly moved in and stabilized Harry as Diana was coming off her adrenaline high. She was barely cognizant when one of the ambulance attendants called out to her.

"Mrs. Wells, do you have any idea what this black stuff on your son's forehead is?"

She came to herself and glanced over to Harry's forehead. His scar seemed to be bleeding a black substance, but even as she watched the flow was slowing and finally stopped.

"No idea," she finally said.

The paramedics completed their on site treatment by bandaging Harry's chest. "Two broken ribs," one said to Diana. "Good consistent method: you've taught this before?"

"No, just trained a lot. I'm with the NYPD."

"He's a pretty lucky kid. How did you know what was going to happen?"

"Mother's intuition. Do we need to take him to the hospital?"

"Just for a short checkup – they may want to replace those bandages for his ribs."

"Thanks for your help."

"No problem. You had already done the important stuff before we got here."

* * *

_**2:00 PM EST,  
New York**_

The hospital stay was long in the waiting room, short in the treatment room. Dr. Peter Alcott arrived almost immediately and went over Harry with a careful eye.

"Seems like he's already on the mend," he said, speaking to Diana. "And have you noticed his scar? It seems to be fading finally as a normal scar would."

"There was some black stuff that came out earlier this afternoon. But nothing after that," she replied.

"I would suggest a few weeks of bed rest, but I suspect he will want to get back to school as soon as possible."

Saying their goodbyes, the two made their way slowly to the Central Park exit where an obviously worried Vincent was waiting for them.

Despite Harry's protests, his father picked him up and carried him down the tunnels, an obviously exhausted Diana following in his wake. The young teen was quickly carried to his bed where his grandfather was waiting for him.

"Not another exam, Grandfather. Dr. Alcott already did the whole nine yards."

The sound of that American expression coming with a slight British accent brought smiles to all the adults in the family. It was obvious that Harry did not appear the worst for the experience and would soon be on the mend.

"I sent my regrets to Joe and Jenny for this evening," Vincent told Diana moments later as they were sitting on 'their' sofa and his arm was around her.

"Don't ask me how, but Narcissa's warning was bang on," Diana began, finally shaking as she could feel the stress leave her body. She began telling Vincent what she had seen, heard and done from the time she had arrived at the cafeteria until Vincent had greeted them at the tunnels entrance.

"It was unlike anything I have ever experienced, babe. I could feel the pull on him and I swear that there was an element of him in that pull. If it could have pulled him through that wall, I suspect it would have become even stronger.

"But he was fighting it. He was telling it no. He was using the memories of this place, of us, of our love to say no.

"And I think that was what finally broke the pull on him. I swear I could hear a snap."

The familiar singsong voice of Narcissa interrupted their conversation. Diana looked up and saw the Haitian woman at the door.

"It was also your love and your pull on him that kept him here," Narcissa continued. "And as a result that little one you now carry is also touched by his power and his destiny."

Vincent looked first at Narcissa and then Diana. "Little one that you carry?"

Diana's face broke into a smile. "Yes, babe, I felt our unborn child's mind while I was trying to save Harry."

"She is destined to be a great one," the black mamba continued. "Her mother after all broke the dark curse over her brother and her father is the great heart of this world. And her brothers will both be men of destiny.

"You have done well, child of fae. You have liberated a great soul and helped to destroy the great evil within.

"As for you Vincent, you have been doubly blessed. While your first love rejoices in the place with no pain, knowing that the child of your love lives on, she also rejoices at the love you have found.

"Sleep well for you have won a great fight."

With that she turned and was gone. Vincent and Diana looked at one another, unsure how to take her latest pronouncements, but profoundly grateful of her warning earlier today. And another child, a child of destiny?

"As she's another girl, I have an idea for a name, babe."

"Yes, my love," Vincent smiled.

"Narcissa called me a child of Erin. I think Erin would be a fine name for a woman of destiny, don't you?"

"Harry, Jacob, Catherine, Erin. Four fine names as long as I get to get to give Erin a middle name of my choice."

"Fire away."

"Erin Diana for the Huntress of Erin." The silence that greeted Vincent did not alarm him: he could tell from the feelings of the woman by his side that she understood the source of their new, as yet unborn child's name.

Erin Diana it would be.

* * *

**A/N: From here we go completely AU. We hope you can figure out the significance of the death of Harry and of course, the mysterious black substance on Harry's forehead. Hint: This story has nothing to do with the X Files.**

**We will be jumping ahead a few years now as our Harry takes his place as a young New Yorker in school when he makes a sudden accidental encounter, the first of two.**

**Our Harry can be very resourceful at times, very clumsy at others. The road to a new future is never easy.**

**Oh yes, it will take us a little time before we return to our white haired old manipulator.  
**


	8. Chapter 7: Newton's Law

**A/N: So I lied in my lasy authors note...we decided that there was too much of a space in between the last chapter and the next one, so we wrote this up to fill in the space :)**

**The idea of _Great Lakes Magical Institute_ comes from the story _Brave New World _by _Bellerophon30_**

**As always, please tell us if you see any mistakes of any kind, please tell us ASAP :)**  
**Reviews and c_onstructive critisism _are accepted, flames are used to make...banana boats! :3**

And on that note...

* * *

Chapter Seven: The Consequences of Manipulation  
~Or~  
Newton's 3rd Law  
_For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction ~Sir Isaac Newton_

_November 1st, 1994_  
_Gringotts Wizarding Bank, London_

"And you are certain of this?"

"Yes, Director. The vaults have sealed down and Albus Dumbledore has lost his access to Mr. Potter's trust vault," Snagtooth, Gringotts' Potter account manager replied.

"But the vaults have not indicated they are moving into dormancy?"

"No, Director. The vaults and the Potter magic await the next heir."

Ragnok took on a pensive look. "That means that somewhere in magic, there is another heir to the Potter family. At the same time, it means that Harry Potter can be declared as dead."

"But the Ministry and Dumbledore have made no such declaration. "

"I don't worry about what Dumbledore and the Ministry have said. Dumbledore, in my opinion, has not acted as a magical guardian should anyway. There is no indication that Dumbledore ever accompanied Mr. Potter to make your acquaintance or even explained to him about his family heritage.

"No, let Gringotts make the announcement in The Prophet and The Quibbler that Harry Potter is dead. Let us then ensure that the Potter vaults remain in waiting for the next heir and not let the Ministry or 'the wizarding public' get their hands on the Potter wealth."

* * *

_November 10th, 1994  
The World Below_

Dr. Alcott had seen many strange things in his time as a doctor and more specifically since he had encountered Vincent for the first time. He had never seen someone heal faster from serious wounds like Vincent – until now.

"Diana, I've never seen ribs heal this fast," he began. "X rays suggest that Harry's ribs are as strong as they were before you performed CPR.

"And some of the other broken and healed bones that he has: evidence of his abuse – they are somehow being restored to an original condition as if they had never been broken."

"Is this dangerous? To Harry or others I mean?" Diana asked. She was concerned about the new life she was carrying and did not want anything to put the child she was already calling Erin in danger.

"No, Diana. I don't believe so. It is just that he is healing at a phenomenal rate and I swear that Harry is healthier now than he has ever been.

"It's almost as if it's magic."

* * *

_November 15th, 1994  
Hogwarts_

The headlines of the Daily Prophet were not welcomed by either Dumbledore or the Ministry.

_Goblins declare Boy Who Lived Dead_

_Potter Vault Indicates Heir is Dead_

_Rumors of a Blood Ritual at Hogwarts to Find Our Savior_

Why couldn't they have kept things quiet? The amount of visits now by Fudge, Amelia Bones, other members of the Wizengamot were more than matched by the streams of mail coming into his office and the howlers he had received.

He had tried to sit on the news and speculation on what the destruction of the Goblet of Fire meant. He was not sure himself. Perhaps something had kept Harry from coming. Perhaps he did not know who he was: although the blood ritual would have brought him to Hogwarts regardless of whether Harry knew he was magical or not.

No, the consequences were serious and there were growing signs that the thirteen years of peace that had graced the wizarding world was coming to an end. Even Severus, never a natural optimist, had indicated that the Dark Mark on his arm was growing stronger. Couple that with the purported Death Eater attack at the Quidditch world cup during August and it appeared to his finely honed senses of discerning trends and patterns that something dark was seeking to return.

And now, due to his foolish desire to lure the missing Harry Potter out of hiding, it was most likely that the promised savior was gone.

For the first time in many years, he began to wonder if it was time for him to step aside and let another come forward and carry the burden. But as usual, when his mind turned to explore the lists of those whom he could trust to succeed him, names were scarce.

He had confidence in Minerva to succeed him as Headmistress as long as Filius stood with her: she had been his rock and compass for many years even if she failed to get the larger picture many times. But Fudge as minister was becoming an embarrassment for Wizarding Britain and now he was solidly in the pocket of Lucius Malfoy; Rufus Scrimgeour was too ambitious to remain what he had been in the past as an effective Head Auror; Amelia Bones would be a fine minister but the older families would still have issues with her both from the reputed politics of the Bones family and from her reputation as a non biddable honest and determined individual.

No one name came to the fore as a person who could combine the years of experience with the magical power and longer term vision that he had. Whether he liked it or not, Wizarding Britain still needed him.

* * *

_February 28th, 1995  
Hogwarts_

"That's it. C'est assez, Madame," Hermione Granger said, her brown eyes flashing. She was upset. She was more than upset. She was livid.

Madame Maxime tried to calm her bright fourth year student. "'ermione, you were in no danger. No danger at all. Headmaster Dumbledore assured me that you were safe…"

"Headmaster Dumbledore assured you that I was safe? Madame, there was a reason why I left Hogwarts two years ago. I was petrified by a giant basilisk and spent several weeks in that state – and I wasn't the only student in that state. I could have died. I go to Beauxbatons where for the first time in three years I am safe in a magical school and then this year.

"This year we come back here to participate in a tournament which hasn't been held for two centuries because students got killed. And voila, a blood ritual is used to summon a missing boy. That's dark magic. I make friends with the Durmstrang champion and I get dangerous mail because people believe I used love potions to lure him to my side: never mind that the guy was lonely and only wanted a friend. I was a mudblood and what would someone of his caliber want to see in me anyway.

"And now, because of that friendship, I was shoved underwater in February without so much as a request for my participation…I could have drowned or worse. No, that's it.

"I'm intending to speak to my parents in the next two weeks and if possible, I'm coming out of this school and this castle."

The Beauxbatons Directrice could only shake her head. She knew a lot about this bright young witch and she herself was beginning to wonder just what kind of school Dumbledore was running here.

* * *

_May 11th, 1995  
The World Below_

"That scars really faded," Steven, Harry's tunnel companion and fellow freshman stated. "I remember when it would look really red."

"And the nightmares are gone too," Harry remarked as they walked into the classroom in preparation for the summative test on the Middle Ages for Social Studies.

"Did Uncle Joe get the Yankee tickets?" his friend replied in anticipation.

"No, he's a real Mets fan. I told him that he liked losers and that he would never learn."

* * *

_June 16th, 1995_  
_Crawley, England_

Emma Granger looked carefully at her only daughter. Hermione's chin was firm and her eyes were fixed on those of both of her parents.

"So you finally agree with us?" she asked her.

"Yes, Mum. I want to continue magical education, but it's time to mix it with non magical studies."

"And Beauxbatons?"

"A good school. I made good friends there. But they still have those attitudes about magicals and non magicals: they had difficulty believing some of the things I told them that non magicals could do.

"And it's too close to Hogwarts. Plus I heard rumors that the Wizengamot – that's the wizarding legislature – is thinking of passing a law stating that all British citizens with magic must complete their education in a British magical school. That would mean that I would have to go back to Hogwarts – I swore that I would never set foot in that school again."

"Did you hear from any more reliable sources?" Dan Granger, her father asked.

"I got an anonymous note from someone, but the writing looked suspiciously like that of Professor McGonagall, the one true friend I had there among the staff. The note confirmed that Headmaster Dumbledore is arguing that we need to ensure that all British citizens are trained by British schools."

"So what do you suggest?" Emma wanted to know.

Hermione swallowed. This was it. "You've always been talking about setting up a clinic in America away from the NHS here: something about more scope for practice there." At her parents' nod, she continued.

"I was checking out one school in the States, Great Lakes Magical Institute, and they seem to encourage a balanced approach to both magical and non magical studies….

"Go on, dear," Emma encouraged. This was going exactly as she and her husband had hoped since the early March conversations.

"Well, I wrote to the school and the President of the school has encouraged me to come out for a visit in early July provided we are already in country. I got the impression that she knew that something was up here as well."

Both parents signed in relief. "Well, we've kind of thought along the same lines and we have already sold our practice here as well as our house. We intend to move to Colorado in the western United States in late June and are only waiting for you to finish with your final weeks at Hogwarts and then Beauxbatons before coming along with us," Dan told her now smiling daughter.

She rushed to embrace both of her parents. "I've got to go back only for the final task of the tournament – Madame Maxime said I could floo over to London from Hogsmeade and then meet you here at Kings Cross. She told me that she would regret losing me, but that given my concerns and the possibility of being forced to return to Hogwarts if I stayed….well, let's just say she will be glad to score one last jab at the old Headmaster."

All three members of the family hugged and Hermione felt a sigh of relief. Maybe now her life could return to some normalcy and the strange fears and terrors which had returned full force on her return to Hogwarts would indeed lessen.

* * *

_June 24th, 1995  
Little Hangleton Cemetary_

"Blood of the enemy…" the words were running through Cedric Diggory's brain even as he worked the ropes loose around the tombstone.

The Dark Lord was in the middle of a speech encouraging his Death Eaters and celebrating the death of Harry Potter.

"…killed by his own protector," the high cold voice chuckled. "The blood contract…probably killed him for sure. I never knew the old man had that taste of the dark in him.

"Still the old fool deprived me of my revenge and he will pay. Oh yes, he will pay. But let us tend to our guest…

"Wormtail! Where is our guest? Naginissss…."

Cedric was crouching and running, his arm still in pain from the slash with the cursed blade from the small balding man Voldemort had labeled Wormtail. There in the distance he could see…

~Master!~ A sudden reducto and stone chips seared Cedric's face. Another headstone exploded beside him.

"Accio Cup." The cup flew to him just as he heard the words AVADA KA….

* * *

_June 24th, 1995_  
_Hogwarts_

Cornelius Fudge was a fool, Dumbledore decided. He had spoken to Cedric Diggory and taken some memories from him before leaving him in the tender mercies of Poppy Pomfrey. There was no doubt that Tom was back and he could not ignore Peter Pettigrew standing beside the Dark Lord or the role he had played in the dark ritual which had brought him back.

Sirius Black had been innocent all along.

A search of the castle for the missing Moody revealed another tragic mistake he had made: the body of his old friend was lying in his trunk. Who had been polyjuicing themself as Moody, he wondered.

Black and Moody: two old allies dead – one at his own hand and the other at Voldemort's. How could he have been so blind?

And now the guilt of the death of Sirius Black and the remembrance of those eyes looking at him, at him alone before the Dementor had descended on him: this would haunt him forever.

* * *

_August 21st, 1995  
Great Lakes Magical Institute, Madison, Wisconsin_

"Welcome, Miss Granger and Drs. Granger to Great Lakes Magical Institute. We are so pleased that you have decided to cast your lot with us for this fall semester," Angela McCullogh, Associate Dean for Transfers, began.

"Were there any questions regarding either our emphases or approaches?"

Hermione was excited. The library, the computers, the mixing of both mundane (as the Americans called non magical) and magical books, classes and teaching styles made her feel very much at home and safe. She could see herself picking up on her non magical studies and looking for that career that would allow her to merge both of her worlds.

"It appears our daughter has no comments to make – or is too excited to say anything," Emma smiled at Angela. "This is everything we could have hoped for."

Angela's face took on a more serious note. "We did receive a letter from Hogwarts stating that they expected Miss Granger to join them this fall as a result of the new law that passed the Wizengamot earlier this month."

Dan stiffened and Hermione's face paled. "And how did you reply, Miss McCullogh?" He asked.

"We wrote back that you had already taken out green card status in this country and that, as such under the ICW ententes, you were now considered residents of the United States, so regretfully we could not comply."

"Did they answer?" Hermione said in a small voice.

"Deputy Headmistress McGonagall herself wrote that she wished you good fortune in your future studies. She also gave us her highest recommendation for you as a student."

All three Grangers visibly relaxed and smiled at each other then at Angela.

* * *

_October 13th, 1995_  
_The World Below_

"Harry, that's a landslide. We're trapped!" Steven called out in panic. "I told you we shouldn't have come here due to the recent rain."

"Look Steven, shut up! I need time to think, " Harry replied. His friend quieted and stillness descended with only the sound of water dripping.

"Steve, how many rocks did you say fell?"

"Five or six. But they're big and they're blocking up the tunnel exit."

"Show me."

Harry walked gingerly forward the few feet separating him from his friend and soon they were together looking at the few boulders which had fallen across the tunnel.

"Steve, what I'm about to do, I want your word that you're going to keep quiet about," Harry began. "Your word."

His friend quickly gave his word and Harry closed his eyes.

He had grown more and more aware of a sense of power in times such as this: a sense of being able to do things when there was a need such as now.

Reaching out with his senses, he somehow could picture the locations of each of the boulders blocking the tunnel. There, with a small shift and a slight push, that boulder.

The sudden noise of shifting rocks was deafening in the enclosed space and the two teens crouched down even as the dust billowed around them. Then, with an even louder crash, the rocks shifted again and the sound which followed was of rocks shifting and dust settling.

"The tunnel! The tunnel – it's no longer blocked!" Steven shouted, turning to Harry. "You did it. ….But what did you do?"

Harry felt only fatigue. "Steve, just remember your promise. Let's get out of here. Let's go home!"

* * *

_December 10th, 1995  
Hedmaster's Office, Hogwarts_

"You wished to see me, Headmaster?" Neville Longbottom asked as he sat down in the Headmaster's office. This marked the first time Neville had entered Dumbledore's office.

"Yes, Mr. Longbottom. It is with a heavy heart that I must share some information with you – information that was most likely responsible for both what happened to Mr. Potters' parents and your own parents.

"I must first ask you, Mr. Longbottom, if you believe in prophecy?"

"Not really, Headmaster. My Gran despises what claims to be divination today and she says she has little time or belief in it."

Dumbledore took on a serious expression and nodded his head in agreement. "Your grandmother is a formidable woman and she has taught you well I see. However, while much of what purports to be divination these days is nothing but foolishness, there is the place for the occasional prophecy that is a true word.

What I am going to talk to you today is when I heard one such prophecy – a prophecy that concerned one of two boys.

"You see, in the year 1980 I was interviewing a candidate for a teaching position here at the school when this person issued a prophecy which in my judgment was nothing less than a real prophecy. And this prophecy concerned someone who would have the ability and the power to challenge and defeat Lord Voldemort."

Neville's face paled. "De…feat the Dark Lord…? Why would it possibly concern me?"

For answer Dumbledore produced his pensieve and played the prophecy beginning with the spectral form of Sybil Trelawney. _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord…_

As the deep voice faded and the image disappeared, Dumbledore looked carefully at the young Gryffindor. He had gone completely pale and his hands were clenching and unclenching as he mentally digested Trelawney's words. It was time to further explain things. But before he could continue, Neville looked at him.

"This prophecy is about Harry Potter, isn't it? He was the one marked and he was the one who somehow made the Dark Lord disappear."

Dumbledore had to nip this line of thought in the bud. "I once thought that as well, Mr. Longbottom. That is why I took the steps I did to ensure Mr. Potter was safe with his muggle relatives. But he disappeared and he has now been proclaimed dead by the goblins.

"In my opinion, I was wrong about Mr. Potter being the child prophesied to vanquish the Dark Lord. That leaves only one other – namely yourself."

If Neville's face had been pale before, he now took on the pallor of a ghost. "No…no way, sir. Harry Potter was the one who vanquished the Dark Lord on Halloween 1981. He was the one who received a mark from that night. I am…am not the child of prophecy, Headmaster."

With that he got up from his seat and made to go towards the door. However, with a subtle movement of his wand, the door remained closed and with more gestures, he steered Neville back to his seat.

"I regret this very much, Mr. Longbottom, but I am afraid that the greater good requires that there must be a child of destiny and prophecy. If Mr. Potter is unavailable, then you will have to replace him.

"Obliviate." With that the rebuilding of Neville Longbottom into the Chosen One began.

Of course, he would have to begin carefully building up the legend of Neville Longbottom to replace the story of the Boy-Who-Lived.

* * *

_September 21st, 1996_  
_The Atrium, Ministry of Magic_

Neville Longbottom lay unconscious on the floor of the Atrium amidst the rubble of the statue of the Magical Brethren. Albus Dumbledore could see the slow rise and fall of his chest even as he directed his attention to the red-eyed snake like figure opposite him in the Atrium.

"You shouldn't have come here, Tom," he chided Voldemort gently.

"You old fool. At the height of my first rise you were no match for my power and now you are even older and less powerful than before. Look at how I managed to best your new champion without even breaking a sweat.

"But I owe you pain old man for taking from me one of the pleasures I was seeking: to kill the Potter whelp for what he did to me fifteen years ago. It should be his blood flowing in my veins rather than that of a common ordinary wizard such as Cedric Diggory. He did not even have the courage to stay and face me."

"Tom, do you have the courage and skill to face me now?" Dumbledore replied even as he began to flash his wand and several fragments of the statues rose up and tried to attack the Dark Lord.

Voldemort's only reply was to begin flashing a snake of fiendfyre and thus the duel began. By the time they had dueled for several minutes, the Atrium was in ruins and the flares of floo fires could be seen as Aurors and the Minister appeared. But rather than enter the fight, Fudge only stood there clad in his pajamas.

Seeing the Minister standing there, Voldemort flicked his wand lazily as his round figure. "Avada Kedavra!" proceeded the blast of sickly green and less than two seconds later the Minister was dead.

"I hate to leave you now, Dumbledore, but as you have hindered me from hearing the prophecy here, I have no wish to stay here. But there will be a day of reckoning between you and I, rest certain of that."

And with that the Dark Lord and the few Death Eaters who had escaped the Order's trap vanished in the crack of apparition.

* * *

_May 31st, 1997_  
_Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts_

"We're fighting a guerrilla war, Albus, and both sides are barely holding their own," Minister Amelia Bones said, the fatigue in her voice clear to Head Auror Rufus Scrimgeour, Senior Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt and Deputy Undersecretary Arthur Weasley.

"His strategy appears to be conserving his forces since the ICW has set up quarantine zones around the British Isles," Dumbledore agreed. "It has become a struggle for the resources of only Great Britain."

"The ICW is not even letting Irish wizards join either side. They have even cut off Northern Ireland from us and that has never happened before."

"Why would the ICW state that neither side was walking in the light, Dumbledore?" Shacklebolt asked. "Rumor was that they labeled you as dark as the Dark Lord."

Dumbledore hung his head in shame. "I was so desperate to find Mr. Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, that I used a blood ritual to summon him the night of the TriWizard Champion selection."

Bones sucked in her breath. "You never told me about that, Albus. A blood ritual – that is dark. It would have summoned him from wherever he was and if he was unable to come, it would have killed him.

"You were so desperate to find him?"

"Yes, I was. You must remember that I had placed him in a place of safety from Death Eaters and when he disappeared at the age of nine, I had started a massive search for him. By October 1994, I had turned up no sign of him anywhere in Britain, either magical or muggle and I had no other options. He had to be found and made ready."

"And now he is dead. The goblin magic never lies," Scrimgeour confirmed.

"No wonder the ICW hasn't picked sides for this conflict," Bones continued. "And thus we are stuck in this stalemate. Neither side has sufficient resources and manpower to move decisively against the other. Instead we have these raids back and forth with an increasing death toll on both sides and Muggleborns and half bloods leaving Britain for more hospitable climes."

"A death toll that increases in part because you refuse to restrict the Aurors to stupefy and incarcerous. The goal of our actions should be to allow these lost souls to be reconciled back to us," Dumbledore snapped.

Bones was incredulous. "Are you daft Albus? Stupefy them when they can be enervated in seconds by their colleagues? No, let me make one thing clear: I've taken the gloves off the firing teams. This is war and none of my Aurors or Hit Wizards is going out there without the weapons to fight back and fight back hard.

* * *

_June 10th, 1998_  
_Great Lakes Magical Institute, Madison, Wisconsin_

Dan and Emma Granger could not restrain the tears or the feelings of pride as they watched their only daughter walk up to the stage and receive her diploma in both Magical and a mundane high school diploma.

"Highest mark in the class in transfiguration, charms and history; third highest overall," Emma said, beaming even as she was watching Dan play with their six month old son.

"But I still think the greatest gift we ever got with this move to America is a daughter who is happy and a son. I still can't believe that it took just a little touch of magic to clear up the conception issues," Dan replied.

Emma blushed even as she grew warm inside thinking of the help the magical healers had been for her and Dan. It had taken Hermione's six-month placement in the school's medical wing for Hermione to discover that unlike magical Britain, magical healers would extend their services to help non-magical parents. The end result had been the conception and safe delivery of Benjamin Daniel Granger.

"Hermione thinks that there is a better than even chance that Ben will be magical also. Something about Hermione being the first and a powerful witch at that coupled with the use of magical methods to conceive," Emma continued.

"I don't care if he is mundane or magical," Daniel replied. "We are more a part of Hermione's life than ever, we have our much desired second child and Hermione will start Pre-med studies at CUNY in New York City this fall."

"Are you still certain on moving to New York City?"

"For sure! The opportunities for your specialization and my general dentistry practice are definitely there, the building in Connecticut coming up when it did was a steal and we get to be close to Hermione, but allow her to spread her wings a bit more."

Trust Dan to think of all the positive financial benefits, Emma thought to herself and then her attention snapped back to the stage as they were beginning the special award presentations. Hermione would clean up a few of these awards tonight.

* * *

_June 20th, 1998_  
_The World Below_

"So young Harry, you are determined not to follow your grandfather in the noble profession of medicine," Father said, giving his grandson a playful nudge.

The tall six-foot young man stood, still dressed in his grad gown despite the fact the graduation had taken place earlier that afternoon. Harry had wanted to wear the grad gown for his father and grandfather despite Diana's videotaping of the entire ceremony for later presentation to Vincent and the other members of the tunnel community.

"Grandpa, much as I would like to be you, there is only one you. I've thought that the greatest way I could help our world would be to help learn about finance and administration. With the legacy that Catherine Chandler left our world, while we can trust some of our helpers to manage those funds, we need someone with a foot in both worlds to help as a liaison between the world below and the world above.

"And I just like the world of business. Not so much the accounting as the art of setting goals, making things happen and taking the occasional risk.

"Just don't let that world seduce you, son," Vincent said, ruffling his tall son's raven hair affectionately.

"No, I don't want that world to seduce me. I have already seen and heard some pretty greedy stories, Dad," Harry replied. "But if we are not careful unscrupleous people could speculate our trust fund away. I want to ensure that Catherine's legacy for this world remains to do the work she wanted to get done."

"Just make sure that you listen to your Uncle Joe and Aunt Jenny," Diana cautioned. "They've got good heads on their shoulders and can help you keep your feet on the ground."

"Sure, Mom. But I think Jacob, Catherine and Erin will also do a good job of that. Erin says my job is to stay here and keep her company."

The assembly of well wishers gathered in Father's chambers couldn't help but break out in smiles at that comment. Perhaps he would indeed be staying in some capacity in the world below.

But first he would have to complete that business degree at CUNY.

* * *

**A/N: For those of who are wondering, yes, there is a method to our madness. Hermione and Harry appear to be headed for the same school (and why not)? However, Harry must make another accidental meeting before when the wizarding world will finally appear in his life. Watch out for bicycle riders.**


	9. Chapter 8: An Accidental Meeting

**A/N: Hello again guys :) We're glad to see that you guys like the story so far :)  
Remember, if you see any gramatical, spelling, or factual errors, please tell us ASAP :)**

* * *

Chapter Nine: An Accidental Meeting

_March 17th, 2000  
New York_

Muggles must be insane!

It was the first conclusion that Fleur Delacour came to as she stood on the corner of Fifth Avenue in New York City. There was no other way to account for the noise of sirens, brakes squealing, bicycles weaving in and out of cars, the flash of yellow cabs driving at insane speeds and narrowly avoiding an accident.

This was a long way from the sedate vineyards of home or the carefully manicured gardens and buildings of Beauxbatons. Perhaps Papa was right: she was too sheltered and needed to see how the non magical world lived.

There were so many people, each walking, stopping and starting, their faces cold or expressionless, some with white ear buds listening to their own private world of music, others with eyes that seemed to pass over their fellow humans. There was no greeting one another, exchanges and shouts of friends or enemies. These people did not know one another and did not seem to care. They were like ships passing one another barely acknowledging one another's existence.

She did not see the impression she herself made on that street corner. Her platinum blonde hair hanging loosely down her back with strands lighting moving in the breeze, her eyes scanning the surroundings and the crowd with interest and some caution, the form fitting light blue dress which revealed her slim figure: all drew the eyes both male and female with male eyes lingering on this picture of feminine beauty and youth.

It was thus that she did not see the bicycle courier catch a glimpse of her, lose his concentration and only at the last minute she felt the impact as the courier, falling off his cycle, hit her and pushed her into the street. This was at a bad moment as the light had just changed and the typical New York City mad dash to advance traffic began.

Fleur could hear a horn and braced for the sickening impact she expected she would receive in seconds, but instead, a strong hand grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back as she felt the breeze and stink of a yellow cab missing her by only inches.

Regaining her balance and breathing quickly to calm her nerves, she looked back to see a young man with messy black hair, green eyes and a sweater shouting out "Just Do It!" standing behind her. This must be the man who had pulled her back and saved her. At her gaze, the young man blushed, but did not turn his eyes away.

"Are you okay? That was a close one," he said.

She could feel her heart still pounding from the near brush with disaster, but she nodded her head as she caught her breath. "Oui, ca va bien….I mean I'm OK," she finally said. "Vous m'avez Sauvé la vie…You saved me!"

His eyes widened at her obvious French. "Bienvenue a New York," he said in halting French, slowly but with a clear pronunciation. "I'm just glad that I could help. Are you all right?"

Fleur could feel her body returning to a calm state, but wanted to get away from the madness of the street corner. "I am fine, but would like to sit down somewhere away from 'ere," she said. "Just to catch my breath and calm down completely."

The young man nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I can understand that. It is not everyday you nearly become a traffic statistic in the madhouse we call New York." Indicating the street behind him, he turned but waited for her to follow.

She found herself feeling comfortable with this young stranger and following his directions, moments later was seated in a chair in a coffee shop.

"Voulez-vous quelque chose à boire?"

Her rescuer's English accented French returned her even more to her senses. Turning her eyes away from the coffee shop's surroundings, she caught herself staring into a pair of one of the brightest green eyes she had ever seen. "Un latte, s'il vous plait?"

The young man turned and, signalling to a barista, whispered quietly in giving their order. In what seemed only seconds later, a mug of steaming latte was pressed into her hand. The familiar smell and shape completed Fleur's recovery from the adrenaline high.

"I owe you my life," she began, unconsciously noting that the young man seated across from her was pleasant to look at, green eyes under a shock of messy black hair and thin spectacles.

"You owe me nothing, Madame?" The question in his voice helped guide Fleur to the next step of their conversation.

"Non, not Madame. I'm Mademoiselle Fleur Delacour from France."

"Your accent and use of French kind of gave that away," the young man countered. "I'd try more French, but I lack practice here in New York City."

Tendering his hand, he continued, "I'm Harry Wells, a New York City resident and currently a student at CUNY. " At Fleur's raised eyebrows, he added, "City University of New York."

"I detect a hint of a British accent underlying your American English," Fleur blurted out, surprised at how quickly she was feeling comfortable with this young man.

"That would be an interesting story, but not for today," Harry replied, a guarded look momentarily coming over his eyes. "But I am curious as to how a young French woman could walk around New York and act as if she had never seen New York traffic before. Surely, it must be same in Paris."

Fleur felt her cheeks go red. Was her lack of experience with muggles and their large cities so evident? And she had thought herself a paragon of modernity compared with those British witches and wizards at Hogwarts five years before. She searched quickly for an explanation and decided some form of the truth wouldn't hurt here.

"I am from a rural part of southern France," she began. "The hustle and pace of New York was a surprise to me and I am not often in Paris."

This answer seemed to placate Harry although he looked at her carefully for a few seconds. Then, his face tensed as if he had made a decision.

"Mlle Delacour, I hope I don't appear forward, but do you have any special gifts?"

Fleur was stunned for a moment. She had been enjoying this conversation with Harry, one of the first she could recall in a long time with a young man who did not appear lost in her allure. They had been talking about her lack of experience in New York: was he now implying that he was aware of what she was, even if he could not describe it. She had mastered her allure in magical society and thought it could be controlled in muggle society. Then Harry broke into her thoughts.

"At the look of confusion on your face, it appears that you don't know or understand what I am talking about. This is difficult for me to describe and you might even think I am nuts, but you give off a 'buzz' as if you were a power generator. The only other person I have encountered like that is myself."

So it couldn't be allure, Fleur decided. Could it be magic?

"Can you do unusual things? Things that cannot be explained?" she asked carefully.

A slight look of relief crossed his face. "Can you?"

"I asked you first," she found herself teasing this young man.

He sighed and nodded. "My relatives call it a gift. They call it – magic."

At these words, Fleur reached for her wand and made some simple gestures. A few notice-me-not charms and she could breathe easier.

Harry's eyes grew wide at Fleur's stick and her gestures. "What is that and what did you do? I could feel the power flowing from you and flowing through that stick into the gestures."

It was now Fleur's turn as she turned widened eyes back to Harry. It was not that Harry had seen the gestures, but that he could see the magic behind them. She needed to think this through. And Harry needed an answer as well.

"I set up privacy charms so that we could speak about this topic without being overheard. And yes, I was using magic. But I am surprised that you could see the magic flowing."

Harry breathed an audible sigh of relief. "So I am not nuts. I have been able to see my own power since I was 14. But I was the only one to see it –until I met you. You glow with it, you give off a buzz and I see it flowing through you when you lifted up that stick."

So he could see magic, but he knew nothing about it: and had only learned about it after the age of 14? Fleur knew every magical nation had sensors out to detect magical births and episodes of accidental magic and the globally accepted age of eleven as the earliest one could start magical education was chosen as the latest age for any latent magic to manifest.

It was incredibly rare to find a magical user who had escaped the detection of a magical nation and who had survived until he or she was a young adult. And on top of everything else, to see magic being used was a gift that only the most powerful wizard or witch could possess.

She would have to get more information, if only to protect magical society and protect Harry. As well, this was the kind of work she was learning about with Gringotts. From just managing wizarding money, the bank in America was trying to forge new links to diverse members of the magical community and the prospect of discovering a powerful young wizard would be a real feather in Fleur's cap.

"'arry, forgive me for being so, what you would say in English, forward, but I need to find out about your gift," she began, her excitement allowing her native French accent to become stronger. "This is very important."

It was Harry's turn to look confused. "Important? How?"

"Did you ever receive any communication, letter, or visit when you turned eleven from someone claiming to be from a magical school?"

"No, not one visit or letter. As I said, it appears that you are the first 'magic' user that I have ever met."

"Harry, there is a world of magical users out there. We are not many: for example, in my own country of France, it is estimated there are no more than 100,000 wizards and witches or what you call magic users. We keep ourselves and our abilities secret because the muggle, m'excuse, the non magical population would not understand us and would even fear us."

Harry felt relief rise up within him. He was not strange, even if he had a gift that no one else around him possessed. After all, the world below attracted those who were outcasts, strange or different: look at his own adoptive father, Vincent. And Fleur was used to being a part of a secret keeping society. Perhaps she could even become a friend. But he needed to return to the conversation as she was continuing to speak.

"Usually a child is born with magical gifts and begins to manifest them at an early age, often in response to stressful situations or when they are experiencing strong emotions. We call this accidental magic. As well, in every magical society, there is a book or register where magical children's' births are recorded, thus helping the magical society learn the names of those magical children born to non magical parents."

Things were connecting for Harry. Strange occurrences he had forgotten: turning his teacher's hair blue, ending up on the roof of a school, leaving Britain to New York City in several horrible minutes. How much could he say? She was being very up front and honest with him: perhaps he could return the favor.

"I'm not originally from around here," he began. "Once, when I was nine, I was faced with what I considered a life or death situation back in Britain. I was staying with my relations, who didn't like me very much, and in fact tried to beat out the 'freakiness' out of me. I supposed you could call it my magical abilities. I felt then that I needed to find a home where I would be loved. A horrible few moments later feeling squeezed through a tube or tunnel and voila, I was here in New York City in front of one of the members of my future adoptive family."

It was Fleur's turn now to be stunned. If she understood Harry correctly, he had apparated himself from Britain to New York at the age of nine. Then something else clicked: if he was from Britain, that could explain why no magical register in America would have picked up Harry's presence here. He would still be on the magical books of Britain, specifically Hogwarts. And if he was a powerful wizard expected to be in Britain, but did not arrive there….he could be…he had to be….

"Fleur, your face suddenly went white. Is something wrong?" Harry's concerned voice broke through her rapidly racing thoughts.

She looked at the young man in front of her carefully, noting anew his eyes and the tangled mop of black hair. If he was…there, on his forehead, she could see a faint trace of a lightning bolt scar…he had to be.

"Harry, could you tell me how old you are?"

"Nineteen – I'll be 20 this July. Why do you ask?

She thought how she would answer this. Perhaps if she dared ask one more question. "Harry, was your last name always Wells?"

Harry now looked at Fleur, suspicion clear on his face. "Why would you want to know?"

Noting that he had not answered her suggested to Fleur that she laid all her cards on the table. "Harry, in magical society, as I mentioned earlier, magical children receive an invitation to a magical school in their region once they reach their eleventh birthday. In the fall of 1991, in Britain or more specifically northern Scotland, Britain's premier magical school, Hogwarts, waited for a powerful young wizard to make his appearance for September: but he never arrived despite his name being called several times. A nationwide search began for this young wizard and for the ensuing four years his name was repeatedly called, but with no success. In what would have been his fourth year, the British magical ministry in conjunction with the Hogwarts' Headmaster used a powerful form of dark magic to try to locate this wizard, but again with no success.

"They were looking for Harry Potter."

At the mention of the Potter name, Fleur could see Harry start and his eyes grow wide before narrowing again.

"Are you sure of the name?"

She nodded. "Unfortunately, I was present at this magical school as our school was visiting Hogwarts that year for a special tournament. I was present when the dark blood magic was invoked using an ancient magical artifact, the Goblet of Fire. We at the school saw a pulse of magic go out of the Hogwarts' Great Hall, but after a few hours of waiting, no Harry Potter appeared and the Goblet was destroyed.

"Yet the Hogwarts' Headmaster kept reassuring everyone that Harry Potter was alive. Most of us thought that day that Harry Potter was dead."

Harry's face had now become hard and cold. "And they would have been right. Let me guess: the summoning was on October 31, Halloween, 1994, was it not?"

"Yes, it was at about 18 heures – six o'clock Scottish time that day," she replied.

Fleur could see that Harry was now struggling to hold back anger. "If the date and time are correct, that 'blood magic' nearly killed me: in fact, my adoptive mother said I had died and it was only her skill with CPR that my heart restarted. It took me a week to recover and then it was as if I had never been sick."

He swallowed a number of times, and then looked at Fleur with cold eyes. "Before we talk further, Mlle Delacour, I need an oath on your power that what I tell you will not leave this coffee shop. If you cannot give me that oath, we have nothing further to talk about."

Fleur could sense the anger and the sincerity of the young man in front of her. She felt strangely comfortable with and drawn to him and it was clear to her magical senses that he was not affected strongly by her allure. She felt interest in Harry Wells, no, Harry Potter, and wanted to see where this would lead. She would have no problem giving a magical oath and after nodding her acceptance of his conditions, did exactly that. A blue glow followed and in the light of that glow, she could see Harry relaxing slightly.

"I was Harry Potter: and before you wonder at that expression, I should begin by stating that until I began school, I didn't even know that name. My earliest memories were of my aunt and uncle calling me a freak or boy and acting as if I was something not even fit to be thrown out with the trash. They told me that my parents were killed in a car accident and that my father was an unemployed bum and my mother was a loose woman: hardly paragons of virtue for their normal world. So, by the time I was nine and determined that I could no longer live in that abusive and neglectful environment, I had little love for my last name and for my parents' names.

"I had longed for many years that I would find people who would love me and appreciate me as just Harry, yet that never happened in Little Whinging, Surrey. My relatives told the neighbours that I was scheduled to go to St Brutus' Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys and that they had taken me out of the goodness of their hearts with the hope that I would not end up as my parents.

"Then I came here and for the first time, found a community of outcasts, of misfits, of people different than others, yet who had the heart to give an orphan boy, an orphan freak a home, love, and even a family.

"Is it any wonder that as soon as I could, when I was formally adopted under the NY State rules, and mad citizen that I took the last name of my adoptive family?"

As Harry spoke, Fleur could sense deep heartbreak, loneliness and pain behind those words. She could even picture a small version of Harry with a tangled mop of hair desperately looking for love. Then when his words turned to the family that had taken him in, his pride, love and appreciation shone through. Given what he had grown up with, she could see that this adoptive family had done much to heal the pain and hurt and transformed into a confident young man with a heart to helping young foreign visitors in difficulty in New York.

But how could she reconcile that young man's story with the stories that had gone around the British wizarding world and even in Europe of a young man who had saved the British magical society from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and had been placed by Albus Dumbledore in a place of safety until he would again be needed by the magical world? And how could she reconcile this story with the now urgent pleas for anyone who had ever seen Harry Potter to report these findings to that same Headmaster at Hogwarts?

Harry had taken a number of sips from his own coffee, in part to cover his shaking hands. Had he said too much? Very few, even in the World Below, knew the depth of his pain and the intimate details of his story. Kipper, Jamie, Mouse, Grandpa Jacob and of course, his own family: Vincent, Diana, Jacob, Catherine and Erin: these alone knew much of the details and only Vincent, Grandpa, and Diana knew the sordid details.

Thinking of them led him to another thought. How would they in the world below react to a young woman like Fleur? How would Fleur react to the world below? He found himself drinking in the vision before him even as he had catalogued the expressions on his face as he had spoken: empathy, sympathy, and a genuine interest. He was feeling comfortable with her and Mom Diana had said that she felt he had a good sense of discernment about people. He instinctively felt that Fleur was good people. But how could he bring a meeting about?

It was at that moment that serendipity intervened or as both Fleur and Harry thought later, the gods of magic. The door to the shop opened and a woman of medium height and auburn hair came into view, her hand gripping a young girl's hand firmly who bore a distinct resemblance to her. By chance, Harry had caught sight of the pair and the serious look on his face that he had worn as he was talking to Fleur disappeared to be replaced by a look of genuine pleasure.

"Fleur, speak of the devil and they will appear," he said as he looked at the pair by the register. "Just sit tight, the woman there at the coffee counter is my mother and my sister.

Fleur could see the genuine affection in Harry's eyes and she discretely waved her wand, removing the see-me-not charms. It was only chance that Harry had noticed his family there. "I have removed the charms preventing people from noticing us," she told him quietly.

"Mom, Erin," Harry called out and the answering looks that both gave him told Fleur that the affection was equally returned.

Once the coffee and soft drink orders had been filled, the woman and Erin pulled some chairs to the table where Harry and Fleur were seated. Fleur felt herself come under careful scrutiny from the woman Harry called Mom and she could feel an instant connection. This woman had a gift of her own and she recognized Fleur as someone special.

"Mom, I have the pleasure to present Mlle Fleur Delacour from France whom I had the pleasure of pulling back from a painful encounter with aggressive New York drivers," Harry began, even as he was ruffling the hair of the young auburn haired girl who was trying to crawl into his lap. "Fleur, this is Diana Bennet Wells, my mother."

Before Diana could say anything, Erin looked carefully at the blond haired French woman. "Are you my brother's girlfriend?" She asked suddenly. "Harry said he would only try to go out with someone like me."

Harry increased the tempo of the ruffling of Erin's hair even as he blushed and looked towards Diana and Fleur with a look of chagrin. "And this young rapscallion is my sister, Erin, who is always jumping to conclusions and saying things that she should not." The aforementioned girl squirmed under her brother's attention, trying to get away, but not with much effort. This was obviously a game that the two played on several occasions.

Fleur and Diana shared a smile at the scene before them and Fleur felt her heart melt at the sight. Despite the glimpse that she had received into Harry Potter's background, it was obvious that Harry Wells had not suffered from a lack of love. The bonds between the three family members were strong and the love clearly present.

"So, Fleur, what is the relationship between yourself and my son?" Diana said her hand extended in a gesture of greeting. As Fleur took the proffered hand, she could feel a spark pass between the two of them. Diana's eyes widened at the same time: it was obvious that she had sensed the same spark. Perhaps Fleur needed to raise the charms again. It seemed that Harry's family knew about him and by extension, if they could accept him and his 'gift', and then perhaps they would also accept her.

Diana broke into her thoughts. "You are something like Harry, aren't you?" It was now Fleur's turn to start. "I can sense things, make connections: Harry calls it a gift." Her tone was low and did not carry beyond their table, but Fleur knew that she would have to bring the conversation back under the notice-me-not charms.

Harry caught Fleur's gesture with her wand and immediately divined her intent. "Mom, Fleur is a lot like me: she is going to do some gestures to ensure that we can speak in privacy."

Fleur was grateful for Harry's perceptiveness and carefully she waved her wand and uttered the words to bring the table back under privacy charms. She visibly sagged as the charms kicked in and she then looked at Diana.

"Oui, I am like Harry," she began. "I have only met him today, but after he saved my life, I wanted to thank him and then he asked if I had the same gift that he had. We have been talking ever since and I have sworn an oath on my magic that I would keep all the secrets that Harry would tell me."

Diana looked carefully at the young woman and captured her blue eyes with her own. The two locked gazes for several seconds and then Diana visibly relaxed. "You're good people, Fleur: I feel that we can trust you. It is not often that I can say that about someone. But you mentioned magic?"

"Oui, I told Harry that I am a witch and that he is most likely a wizard," Fleur replied.

Erin took this moment to break into the conversation. "You're funny. You don't look like a witch – do you have a broom?"

Fleur was growing to love this precocious child. "Oui, mademoiselle Wells, I have a broom and I ride it at times."

Harry broke out into genuine laughter. "Erin, you have been listening to too many of Mary and Father's stories. Just because someone has a gift of magic doesn't mean they ride brooms."

"Oh, monsieur Wells, but we do. We even have a sport called Quidditch that involves fourteen people on brooms, iron balls, a leather ball and a golden snitch."

Harry was now looking at her with wide eyes of his own. "I can see that I have a lot to learn about those magical societies that you were telling me about."

Diana interrupted. "So you can tell Harry a lot about his gift?" she asked, her brow furrowed as she was obviously thinking through the implications of this meeting between Fleur and her son.

"Mom, she told me some things about my past and who I was," Harry said. Then his voice turned harder. "She even told me a possible reason why I 'died' back in October 1994."

Diana's face now showed genuine concern. "This is not the place to have this kind of conversation. As well, your father, grandfather, and I would like to be a part of this discussion," her voice now took on a decisive quality that Fleur recognized as one of authority.

"Miss Delacour, you swore an oath to my son that you could keep his secrets, so he told me. What I must ask of you is that same oath for what you are going to learn today because many lives depend on keeping the secrets you may learn today."

Fleur nodded at Diana's words. Events were moving quickly here, but she somehow felt that this conversation was important and even life changing. She knew as a Veela that she could sense the emotions of those around her and she felt comfortable and safe with the people around this table.

"I will so swear," she began and when she had given her oath again, Diana was surprised at the blue flash that accompanied the end of her oath.

"Well, that is a very convincing gesture, Miss Delacour," she began. "I will have to prepare the way for you. Harry, could you keep your new friend occupied until after 3: I need to locate your father and share with him our encounter today."

Harry nodded and turned to Fleur. "Do you have to be anywhere for the rest of the day?"

Fleur shook her head. "Today was a day off from work and presented me with an opportunity to explore New York City -and meet green eyed black haired wizards," she said with a smirk. She caught herself smiling even as she realized in shock: she was flirting with Harry.

Diana smiled at the obvious banter. "Come Erin, we need to go home and prepare the chambers for a guest for supper this evening," she said, pulling her reluctant daughter from Harry's arms.

Erin looked at Fleur carefully even as her feet reached the floor. "You're going to marry him, you know, you and one other," she said in a peculiar solemn voice.

Out of the corner of her eye, Fleur noticed both Diana and Harry stiffen at Erin's words.

The smile had returned to Erin's face as she grabbed her mother's hand. "Don't forget to bring me a Mars bar, Harry. Father said I could have one because I did all my homework last night." The voice had returned to that of a young girl.

Fleur had sensed the power behind the young girl's statement and she had involuntarily shivered. Just what kind of gifts did Harry's family possess? Empathy, seer: what else lurked in the background?

Both she and Harry turned to watch the mother and daughter leave the coffee shop and then she turned back to him. "I believe we have had enough serious conversation for the moment. Could you show a young French stranger the wonders of your home and city?"

Harry rose from his chair, stepped behind her and pulled her chair out. "Mademoiselle Delacour, it would be my pleasure to show you the sights and sounds of New York City." He extended his hand and she surprised even herself by placing her hand in his and walking out of the coffee shop.

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**A/N: So Harry's had his first introduction to the Wizarding World :) What did you think?**

As always, reviews are appreciated, constructive critisism is accepted, and flames are used to bake scones.


	10. Chapter 9: Into The Catacombs

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry this took so long to upload. We were having problems with the flow from the last chapter into this one. I hope we did ok with the final draft :D**

**Now, in response to those reviewers asking when we plan on updating, or asking us to update soon, or anything like that: Aside from last week, we plan on posting the next chapter on both our stories every Wednesday.**

**Once again, reviews are appreciated, constructive critisism accepted, and flames are used to roast cocktail weenies.**

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Chapter Nine: Into The Catacombs

_March 17th, 2000  
New York_

As the small group walked down the New York City streets, Fleur couldn't help but smile. Here she was, with a day off from her job at Gringotts, enjoying a tour of the city and its busy streets with the Boy-Who-Lived and his family and on her way to meet the rest of his world.

She had felt an immediate connection to Harry even before she had connected him with the missing Harry Potter, but the pronouncement of Erin that she would be more closely attached to him took her mind down alleys she had not even considered.

And what about the members of Harry's family? Diana was no witch, but she was special. She had felt an immediate connection with the auburn haired woman, a recognition that she had some gift of her own. It was obvious from Diana's reaction to her that she also recognized something unique about Fleur.

But the greater surprise was Harry's sister, Erin. She remembered Erin's words and the instant chill that had gone down her back. Erin had a true gift and Fleur wondered what other gifts Harry's young sister could have. Could she be magical? It was almost impossible for someone to be a seer without also having some magical ability.

The first inkling Fleur had that there was a greater mystery in regards to this family was when the small group arrived at the carousel in Central Park. Diana and Harry were carefully looking around as they walked around the carousel and their obvious destination was a tunnel near the edge of the cleared space around the carousel. Was this where they lived?

She had also been wondering why no one had picked up on Harry's occasional use of accidental magic. To hear Harry, it was obvious that he knew that he had some abilities, but generally if someone used accidental magic, the magical monitors of any nation would pick up its use and intervene: the Statutes of Secrecy had to be respected.

By now they had arrived at the culvert and the three family members entered it with no hesitation. Harry looked back and waved Fleur on. "Welcome to the rabbit hole, Fleur. Just follow us and make sure that you keep up."

She had entered the tunnel behind Harry and her eyebrows went up in a look that suggested disbelief. "A rabbit hole, Harry? You mean to say that you live in a tunnel?"

Diana chuckled even as she hit a hidden lever and a door slid open at the end of the tunnel. "Fleur, Harry forgets that someone not familiar with English literature would be ignorant of the story of Alice in Wonderland. It is a fairy tale of a young girl who goes down a rabbit hole and encounters a strange and fantastic world.

"And, in a manner of speaking, you are about to enter a fantastic world. Yes, we do live below the city in a world that at times even to me feels like make believe, a fairy tale. Of course, normally, I am a hardnosed police detective and thus I have a hard time believing in the fantastic."

Fleur had followed Harry and the door slid shut behind them. The air was dry, but there was the hint of moisture and she could hear faint sounds of banging.

"Welcome to my world, Mille Delacour," Harry said with a flourish. "This was why we had you declare that oath – many people and lives count on the secrets that are kept here.

"Just follow us and we will be glad to explain once we arrive."

Diana had gone ahead and Fleur could see that she had picked up a piece of pipe and was banging on an overhead pipe. Seeing Fleur's curious look, she indicated the overhead pipe. "We have developed an ingenious way to communicate across the length and breadths of our tunnels – a code like Morse code. You can say a lot by banging on a pipe.

"I just told my husband and father-in-law that we were coming with a visitor."

Thus began a trip that, for Fleur, was something out of a fairy tale. Along tunnels with the sound of subway trains, banging pipes; the occasional tunnel resident with comfortable, but unusual clothing; the circular stairway up and down this tunnel world; the high ceilings of the underground tunnels in some places and even the chamber where hundreds, if not thousands of voices could be heard: if she had not already seen the goblin tunnels under Gringotts, she would not have believed that such a world could exist so close to the modern and bustling city above. It was as if she had entered another world that had little to connect it to the city up top.

She could also see how comfortable Harry and by extension his mother and sister felt here. Harry greeted those tunnel inhabitants he met with a smile and a word of greeting: it was obvious to her that he was home here and that he was a valued member of the community.

All too soon, they arrived at a larger chamber where several volumes of books and some tables could be clearly seen. Seated at one of these tables was an older man with a neatly trimmed grey beard and a cane and beside him was …..

"Mon Dieu," Fleur gasped as she laid eyes on Vincent for the first time. She blinked once and then gave the tall man a thorough going over – from his strawberry blond hair to his leonine features and the powerfully built body evident to her even though he was seated.

She thought back to Diana and an image from one of her favorite conte des fees came to mind. Inadvertently, she blurted out, "La Belle et La Bête, ici?" Her face then immediately blushed as she realized what she had said.

A low chuckle could be heard from the tall leonine man. "Tres appropriee, mademoiselle," he said in a low, yet pleasant voice.

There were answering smiles from Harry's family members as they moved with Fleur to sit at the table with the two men. Harry felt he had to put Fleur's mind at ease.

"Fleur, I think you can understand now why we had to insist that what you learned here had to be kept a secret. Allow me to introduce my grandfather, Dr. Jacob Wells, and his son, Vincent, my father. Grandpa, Dad, allow me to introduce Mille Fleur Delacour who can talk to us about my 'gift' and who has already sworn on her 'gift' that she would keep everything she learns here a secret."

Fleur by now had calmed down and she took the proffered seat gratefully. But her thoughts were interrupted by Erin.

"What did you just say and why did my Dad answer the way he did?" she asked.

Fleur's face reddened again, but she tried to answer her question. "When I saw your father, it reminded me of a story that I learned to love when I was a child no older than you, Erin. I believe its translation in English would be 'Beauty and the Beast'

"Seeing your father just brought back some good memories."

Now that she was seated in this family gathering, her Veela instincts could sense the depth of love between the various members of this family. There were even emotional bonds beyond the normal love relationship between Vincent and his daughter as well as a strong, almost tangible bond of love between Diana and her husband.

"That marks the first time I have ever been compared to a fairy tale," Vincent spoke, his low voice making Fleur feel warm and relaxed. There were no sexual overtones, but Fleur suddenly could understand why Diana was in love with this man.

"Welcome, Mille Delacour, to our humble home," Grandpa Wells began. "I must insist that you remember that what you learn here remain a secret as many lives, including Harry and his father, depend on this place being a safe secret place."

Fleur nodded her understanding and Vincent next spoke. "So tell me, Mille, how you came to meet my oldest son and how you have become the first young woman he felt at ease enough to introduce to his parents." The humor in his voice was now clear even as Harry blushed.

"Please call me Fleur," she began. "It was actually an accidental meeting – your son just happened to save my life."

"It was nothing, Fleur," he replied, his face even redder. "Anyone else would have done the same." He was conscious now of everyone's gaze on him. Of course once he had said that, he had to explain how he had pulled her back from falling in the street.

"But what makes this meeting so important is that Fleur helped me understand my 'gift' as you call it. She ended up telling me a lot about my abilities and even gave me some background on who I was before I came here," he continued.

Fleur now felt their regards in turn as she looked down on her hands. "Harry is a person who can practice magic. He is a wizard."

Vincent's only reaction was a widening of his eyes while Grandpa Wells snorted. "Magic is real then, Fleur?" Vincent said in a neutral tone. He was not rejecting her comments out of hand, but then, to look at him and this world, he must already believe in the fantastic.

"Oui, Vincent, magic is real. I know because I am a witch." With that, she produced her wand and waved it gently, conjuring a white orchid for Erin who received it with a laugh and a smile.

Diana already seemed comfortable with her gift – somehow, she had sensed that Fleur was similar to her son and the two had communicated their acceptance of each other earlier in the coffee shop. But there were looks of speculation and consideration in Vincent and Grandpa Wells' eyes.

Vincent then turned to his son. "So Harry, you are a wizard then. That could some way to explaining those occasional occurrences that happen around you but which have no logical explanation." At Harry's nod, he turned back to Fleur. "It would appear, Fleur, that if Harry was the only one with this gift, that it could be something accidental much as my own appearance is not 'normal'. However, if you know about this 'gift' and you are using what I assume was a wand there, then it implies there are more people out there with this gift. Can you give us some details about this world and about yourself – if you are allowed?"

Fleur felt Vincent's acceptance of her and her magic as well as Harry's magic. With a stare, she noticed that her initial surprise at Vincent's appearance had faded to a sense of comfort and ease with the tall leonine man. He was no longer strange, just different.

"There is a world of magic out there," she began and she proceeded to speak for the next half hour telling them about the world of magic, the Statute of Secrecy, her background and her own journey through the magical world.

"We are allowed to speak about magic to members of a wizard or witch's family as they are immediately involved with the magic that their family member wields. But, if you will forgive me for being too bold, it appears that this world is a gifted one in its own right.

"One of my gifts is to see magical and unusual gifts among other people and from my observation of your wife, your daughter and now yourself, I sense abilities that several in the non-magical world would consider 'magical'."

She paused, suddenly realizing that she had been talking nonstop for quite some time. Vincent smiled at her reassuringly. "Perhaps it is my gift that senses that you would like a break in our conversation. I think now would be good time to enjoy some tea and baked goods supplied by our willing helpers." With that he rose and walked over to a nearby teapot.

Fleur got up and stretched, feeling her body limber up after having remained in a seated position for so long. Her attention turned towards Erin. The young girl had tried to stay awake through part of the conversation, but had nodded off and was gently snoring in her mother's lap.

Fleur decided a gesture of courtesy was called for here and she rose and got a cup of tea and a muffin for Diana who had remained seated while her daughter slept. The auburn haired woman smiled her thanks, but Fleur noticed a grimace as she looked at the cup of tea in her hand.

"One thing about these tunnel dwellers is that they have a love affair with tea," Diana said, observing Fleur's eyes on her. "I want a strong cup of java just to blow out my sinuses if nothing else. I can live with tea, but I sneak out every now and then for a coffee at that shop you met us in."

The French witch felt she could bring up one of her observations to Harry's mother. "Diana, I think that this information about the magical world has a meaning for you beyond just being Harry's adoptive parents," she began.

"I think that your daughter Erin is also a witch."

Diana's eyes were now fixed on the young woman. "Any idea on why you think so?"

"She demonstrated a gift when we met in the coffee shop – a gift for seeing or foretelling. Usually, when a person has the one gift, they also have a gift for magic."

Diana was now introspective and her eyes seemed directed inward. "When I was carrying her, it was during the time when I rescued Harry from something I guess I would now have to call a magical event – on October 31, 1994. We have a woman in our community – a mambo I guess you would call her – who deals with the spirit world and who told us that our daughter would be a powerful child.

"Maybe she picked up something of Harry's abilities. Maybe not."

Fleur did not know how much more she could say. But perhaps she could give a small warning. "I would keep your daughter's ability to See to yourselves for now," she began. "This is not a common gift and Seers can be highly prized."

Harry by now had returned with a cup of tea each for Fleur and himself. "So you are suggesting that someone might come here and try to grab her," he said with a hint of steel in his voice.

"Let them try!"

Vincent and Grandpa Wells had also returned at this point and all were again seated. Harry's comment forced her to think about the implications of Harry Wells once being named Harry Potter.

For Harry was in danger.

He was a wizard and his potential was enormous. But while he was safe for the moment in this underground haven and given that the magical world felt that he was dead, nothing was an immediate threat on his horizon that could change quickly if anyone else in the wizarding world thought that Harry Potter was still alive.

Harry needed training. He needed to learn who he was and who his potential friends and enemies were.

He needed this knowledge to protect himself, his family and his world.

Harry's outburst had brought an element of discomfort and even danger to this conversation and Fleur wanted to understand how this world had developed before she returned to the task she now knew she had to perform in discussing Harry's needs with him and his family. As well, she wanted time to put her thoughts in order so that she could properly explain the need as well as the steps she could suggest for him to take.

Providentially, Harry's shouted declaration had jolted Erin awake and Diana took a few moments to escort her young daughter out of the room. Fleur took this opportunity to ask Vincent and Grandpa Wells how the world below had developed.

Immediately she could see Grandpa Wells draw up in a disapproving manner. "Fleur, this is not to attend you, but we barely know you and while you have sworn a magical oath to my grandson that you will keep the secret of this place, I am reluctant to say too much until we know each other better."

Vincent snorted at his father's words. "Fleur, you have been more than open with us about your secret world. Allow me to tell you something about how we came to be."

Thus he began with the efforts of his father to build a world of safety for those who had been abused and threatened above. As he spoke in his mellow low voice, Fleur allowed his words to blend with the atmosphere of this unusual place to soak into her consciousness. She could see how such a place could nurture a wizard such as Harry – then she had a sudden thought. The underground location of this world could have played a role in shielding any of Harry's accidental magical outbursts, thus avoiding discovery.

Discovery – she sat up with a start. She knew what potentially awaited Harry out there and she suspected that inevitably, one way or another, the magical world would find that Harry Potter was still alive however Harry thought of his identity now.

Her thoughts must have betrayed her epiphany because Vincent interrupted his story and Harry looked at her with a question on his face. "Fleur, you look like you have suddenly become Atlas and you are now carrying the burden of the world. Care to share?"

She swallowed – Harry and Vincent didn't miss much, although perhaps in Vincent's case, it was his empathy. "Harry, I need to discuss with you and your family what the significance of your discovery of magic means for you.

"Harry, I'm worried about you."

"Worried about me – am I in danger?"

"In a word, oui. You and this wonderful world and family."

Silence fell on the small family – Diana had already returned from putting Erin down for a nap and both parents looked at each other, then at Grandpa Wells and finally Harry. Diana then stretched out her senses.

"You are sincere in your fear and sincere in your appreciation of this world. You are truly concerned. Why?"

"Madame Wells…Diana. Harry doesn't know about his reputation out there in the magical world. He doesn't know that at various times two powerful wizards and a whole magical nation were looking for him. If he were accidentally discovered by the wrong person or persons, it could put him, you and this world in danger. And after having being introduced to this place, this world is too precious to lose."

"Danger from who, Fleur?" Vincent asked.

"From one wizard who would want to control Harry and from another wizard who would want to kill him," she replied.

Harry was disparaging of the threat. "I've been here for ten years. No one found me or this world then and if we hadn't met by accident, no one of the magical world would know now."

Fleur shook her head. "Harry, up to now, it's been by chance that no one thought you were on this side of the ocean. And, oui, most people now believe you're dead. But I think you need to be prepared for the possibility that if one person like me can find you by accident, that others can as well.

"I just think that you need to learn about magic so that you can be ready."

The Wells family was silent and Fleur looked at Harry's face showing he was deep in thought. It was obvious to the others in the room that he was thinking about her comments.

"I wanted to learn about magic anyway. But I don't want to give up my home, my family and my future.

"But the way you are talking about learning magic is that I need to do this for survival."

She nodded her head. "This is not a normal situation, Harry. You were only a baby when you supposedly killed the Dark Lord. He supposedly fired a Killing Curse at you and your title became The Boy Who Lived because you survived it – at least until your death in October 1994.

"Please remember that I'm only describing what I picked up from the year that I was at Hogwarts for the TriWizard Tournament and from conversations with one of my friends, Hermione Granger, a former student at Hogwarts who transferred to my school in France.

"She told me of the expectation all of her year had in your expected arrival at Hogwarts. You would have been in her year in September 1991. And when they called your name and you did not appear, it caused a small crisis at the school and throughout the British wizarding world.

"When the Headmaster of Hogwarts used the blood summoning on Halloween 1994, he told Madame Maxime, my directrice, that it was critical that you be found – that the safety of the wizarding world depended on it.

"Reports later came out that after the Dark Lord Voldemort, the one whom supposedly fired the Killing Curse at you, was resurrected with a new body that he wanted revenge against Headmaster Dumbledore for killing you."

Harry got up and began pacing around the room. "So I have a Headmaster who used dark magic to make sure that he could find me and another Dark Lord whom I supposedly defeated as a baby come back to life and threatening to kill people because I'm supposedly dead – do I understand this correctly?  
"Why do I want to enter such a world?

"I thought learning magic would be real. I was so excited to meet you – you gave me a name for my gift and showed me that I was not the only one to have it. I wanted to see how I could learn to use this gift for the betterment of my community."

Fleur shook her head sadly. "It gets worse Harry. Supposedly there was a prophecy that you were destined to kill this Dark Lord. Details were vague and remember that I was in France, but some British papers called you the Chosen One."

"This is going from bad to worse," Harry replied, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "I was excited to have met you earlier today – but now you are telling me that I have to learn how to use my magic, my gift, so that I can survive a war – a war in which I'm some kind of Chosen One, a savior, who is supposed to kill this Dark Lord.

"Fleur, I want to learn magic. But I'm not interested in learning about it if it means getting involved in some conflict back across the Atlantic, in a country that for me is only full of painful memories."

Fleur realized too late that she had probably started off on the wrong foot with Harry. It was important for Harry to learn magic – it was important for anyone magical to learn how to wield their gifts. Nothing precluded him from staying here with his family and loved ones. She was not here to recruit him for some war back in Britain, but she believed he needed to be aware of what was waiting for the son of the Potters if and when he returned to the world of magic.

Diana could sense the frustration and worry in the young French witch's mind. Fleur was not trying to scare Harry – there was a genuine worry for the safety of her son and her family.

"Harry, Harry, calm down. I don't think that Fleur is telling you or trying to draft you into a conflict. If I understand her, I believe she's trying to tell you what the lay of the land is, so that you can be prepared," she said.

Fleur was nodding at Diana's words, tears of relief on her face. Now if Diana's very sensitive husband could pick up the threads of the conversation….

"Mlle Delacour…Fleur," Vincent began, seemingly in answer to her thoughts. His voice was low and calm as it had been throughout their meeting and it had an obvious calming effect on Harry.

"Perhaps you can tell us the story of Harry Potter – what you know of it at any rate. Harry, I ask you to relax and listen. No matter what the future holds, you need to know some things. First of all, we love you. I doubt Jacob, Catherine and Erin would let us live should we allow something to happen to you.

"Fleur wants to tell you about what the world that you are discovering holds for you – so that you don't walk in blind. You have magic – we've known that you've had a special gift for years even if we didn't know what to call it. You need to know how to use it, what it is, and most of all, what your place in this world might be.

"Remember, son – you hold the key to your own destiny. Others may try to shape you and use you for their purposes, but what have we told you about that?"

Harry smiled at his parents with such a tender look of love that Fleur found herself wondering how she would react if he ever looked at her like that.

"We each write our own story. We each sing our own song."

Vincent laid his arm on the shoulder of his eldest son even as Diana did the same on his other side. Then he turned to Fleur.

"Please, Mlle Delacour, tell us about Harry Potter…"

And so Fleur told them of the story of the Potters, from the rise of Voldemort to the events of Halloween 1981 to the events of Halloween 1994 and the declaration by the goblins and then the British ministry that Harry Potter was dead. She knew that she did not do the story justice, but she could give some objective perspective as she had learned of the story as an outsider. And while she did not know of Harry's later years, she could tell that the story was a moving one, both for Harry and for his family.

"There was much she did not say," Vincent told Diana that night as they and Harry were seated in the family chambers.

"The direction of the story doesn't make sense, Dad," Harry said, shaking his head. "How did I go from being this Boy Who Lived to living with my relatives who wanted to treat my 'gift' as something freaky and something to be beaten out of me?"

"I'm not sure, son," Vincent replied. "I suspect that there were manipulative forces behind you ending up with those relatives."

Diana was silent as she processed the story and brought things up to date. "I wonder if you were supposed to go to that wizarding school all abused and beaten down," she wondered out loud. "If you were being called this Boy Who Lived and were aware of your title as a young child, you might have become too arrogant for someone to manipulate.

"But if you were being mistreated and then you showed up at this magical school as some idea of a savior, you might have looked to whomever got you out of that abusive environment as your own savior.

"Do you remember your early days with us? You would jump at any chance to help anyone because you were afraid that we would throw you out. Even now, we sometimes have to reign you in – although you are much more comfortable with the ribbing and teasing that you get from us here."

Harry nodded his head thoughtfully. He remembered well the worries he sometimes felt when others in the community would tease him – even today, he occasionally felt the nagging worry that everything about this world was just a dream and he would wake up having found everything to have been a lie.

"I'll study about this magic, Mom and Dad. I want to face this world on my terms, not someone else's."

"Even if Fleur becomes a part of this world for you?" his mother teased.

"Dad! Mom!"

"Well you will admit – she is very attractive – and she is the first girl you've ever brought home."

Harry could only hang his head and smile. A prospect of a world with Fleur in it did not seem all that bad – in fact, it looked mighty appealing.

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**A/N:You didn't think that we would leave our lovely bushy haired friend out, did you? Yes, as you can probably guess, she and Fleur were friends.**

**Next chapter, Harry, under Fleur's guidance, goes to an unusual magical academy while maintaining his current study program in Business Administration at CUNY.**


	11. Chapter 10: Goblins and Inheritance

**A/N: HEY GUYS! Firstly, i would like to apologize for the long wait on this chapter...I got the chapter from one of my parteners, but what with the holidays and whatnot, it completely slipped my mind. Will you forgive me?**

**As always, Reviews are appreciated, constructive critisism accepted, and flames will just be used to...roast chicken! Any one want any? ;)**

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Chapter Ten: Goblins and Inheiritance

"Fleur, I've decided to take you up on your offer?"

The young French witch nearly spat out her coffee. "My offer?"

Harry was now flashing one of the most potent tools in his arsenal; a weapon that Fleur was discovering was a great weakness for her – his emerald green eyes. She found herself getting lost in them even as he continued speaking.

"Yes your offer to train me?"

Eyes like that should be banned, one part of her mind decided even as another part wondered if Harry was part Veela – whatever his allure was, it was really distracting. With difficulty, she answered him.

"I never offered."

Harry was now adopting a cute pout – obviously he had learned a few pointers from his sisters. "But you brought up the topic in the first place and even convinced my parents, Fleur. I just figured you would take care of things from there."

"Well perhaps I could arrange for you…"

He was leaning closer across the table from her. "Arrange what?"

"Arrange a meeting with my employers perhaps. They ….might… have some ideas."

Harry now backed off, a smile playing on his lips. "Are you feeling okay, Fleur? Your face looks a bit warm."

Blast those green eyes and raven black hair, she thought to herself. There should be laws against that.

"No, I'm fine….really."

"When do we go …to see your employers?"

"Just as soon as I finish this coffee."

It had become a weekly tradition that Fleur and Harry would share a coffee at the same café where they had had their first discussion and this was only their second time together. It was clear to her that Harry was now moving ahead with his plans, obviously worked out with his parents ahead of time.

She had begun to explain about the goblins and how they were nonhuman, but ran the finances of the magical world.  
"I have been an employee of their bank, Gringotts, for some time and came here to New York to learn English among other things. My first choice, London, was out of the question due to the ICW quarantine on foreign magicals entering Britain."

This of course led to her describing the current status of the civil war in Britain between the forces of the Ministry under Amelia Bones and the forces of the Dark Lord Voldemort, a conversation that was ongoing as she approached what appeared to be a nondescript apartment building on a quiet New York street.

"Don't judge a building by its first appearance," she said as she guided him towards a door marked Closed. Touching the doorknob with her wand surreptitiously, the door opened and Harry saw a brand new world.

From the moment he entered the Magical Mall, his senses threatened to explode under waves of stimuli – voices, colors, sights, sounds, and smells. How anyone could walk through all the crowds of people; how all this activity and stores could fit into this small New York apartment building – Harry had no idea.

"Welcome to the Magical Mall, Harry. Remember when I said never judge a book by its cover? Well, what better way to hide New York's magical shopping district than in plain sight?"

She appeared to be at home in this chaotic environment. And she had complained to him about the chaos of New York City traffic? He could hardly see the difference.

He found Fleur moving towards an imposing white store front midway down the mall's first level. In fact, the large store front appeared to occupy both levels of the mall and managed to look more imposing than possible for a building in a shopping mall, even if it was magical.

"This is Gringotts New York," Fleur began. "I want to get us in to see one of the senior bank managers. They can have your status tested to confirm who you are and what resources, if any, are available to you."

Fleur was definitely at home in this world and he thus settled in to follow her lead as she marched past the two short armored beings at the bank's entrance. She was walking too quickly for him to read a lengthy inscription at the bank's doors, and once inside, she veered towards the left of the large lobby.

A short conversation with another small being and both Fleur and he were being waved into a hallway behind a large counter at the left of the lobby. The being who Harry assumed was a goblin was short and did not appear to be friendly, but spoke with Fleur with obvious respect.

"Snagtooth can meet with you shortly," the goblin said as he ushered the two into an ornate office that combined boardroom furniture with battleaxes, swords and spears on the walls.

Once the goblin had left, Harry turned to Fleur. "Nice combination of interior decorating," he said with a smile.

"Goblins are both bankers and a warrior race, Harry," she replied. "It wouldn't surprise me if these weapons on the walls were not won by the goblin we will meet today."

"Quite correct, Miss Delacour," a voice said behind them and both were startled to see an elderly goblin had quietly entered the room behind them.

"Master Snagtooth?" Fleur questioned even as she bowed her head as a sign of respect. Harry copied her gesture.

The goblin's eyebrows rose slightly at Harry's gesture. "I am used to our employees showing signs of respect. I am not used to wizards doing the same.

"I am Snagtooth, one of the senior account managers here at Gringotts. Miss Delacour, you brought me someone to meet."

"Yes, Master Snagtooth, I have the honor to present you Harry Jacob Vincent Wells, a wizard who just discovered he is magical. He thought to come here to find out if there are any magical inheritances and bloodlines that might belong to him.

"And there is information connected to him that must remain confidential and sealed to the Director of this bank for now."

Snagtooth had begun to smile a toothless grin at Harry, but at Fleur's last words, his face grew serious and he waved his hands in a careful pattern.

"Curse Breaker Delacour, invoking that expression is only for very important discoveries. You are sure of this."

"Yes, Senior Account Manager."

Harry was watching this exchange with a great deal of interest. Snagtooth was now eyeing him with a great deal of interest and Fleur was definitely in a serious vein.

"The room is sealed to the Director, Miss Delacour. What do you have to tell me?"

"The young wizard who stands before you was born Harry James Potter."

Silence filled the room and then Snagtooth moved into action. "You are sure of this?"

"In my initial conversation with him, he had details only Harry Potter would have known."

Snagtooth now looked at Harry carefully. "And you, young wizard, can you confirm this?"

Pleased that he was finally included in the conversation, Harry nodded. "My earliest recollections of my name were 'Freak' and 'Boy' but when I began school, I learned my name was Harry James Potter.

"Although I think I died back in 1994."

Snagtooth was still for several seconds. Then he turned to Fleur and nodded his approval. "You did well to bring him here. We must prepare for the bloodline and inheritance ceremonies, but I must warn you that no other in this bank must know what you have told me today for now.

Turning to Harry, the old goblin continued. "Mr. Wells, or if you prefer, Mr. Potter, we need to determine your bloodlines and your inheritances. Your statements disturb me – you were reported dead by our London office in November 1994 and something suggests to me that something magical may have happened to generate this report.

"Were you aware of the existence of magic prior to coming here to Gringotts this day?"

Harry shook his head. "My first introduction to magic was when I met Fleur Delacour two weeks ago. I was aware that I had a 'gift' of sorts, but I thought I was the only one. She was the first magical user I've ever met."

"As goblins, we do not use wands or other magical aids. However, to determine what your magical bloodline and inheritances might be, I will need a sample of your blood." Harry nodded his approval and within seconds another younger goblin came in with a bowl and a knife.

A slice of the knife across his palm and drops of his blood fell into the bowl. The bowl then glowed and a piece of heavy paper flew out, landing on Snagtooth's desk. Writing began to appear and black lines began to form.

Snagtooth waited until the writing and lines had stopped forming before he picked up the paper and cast his eyes upon it. A second later, shock was evident on his face and he dropped the paper back on the desk.

"Miss Delacour, Mr. Wells, please be seated. This is quite a surprise."

The two humans sat down, both curious and alarmed at Snagtooth's comments and manner. The older goblin looked again at the parchment, then sat down as well and folded his hands in front of his face.

"Mr. Wells, you are confirmed to have been born Harry James Potter, but magic records that you died as the Potter heir on October 31, 1994 as you told us. Instead you are now recognized as Harry Jacob Vincent Wells and as the heir to the Black estate and title.

Showing Harry and Fleur the parchment, Snagtooth indicated a red line which abruptly ended.

"Normally, when a person dies, that is the entry. It indicates that the person known as Harry James Potter died and that now the Potter estate and title are vacant. Yet the Potter estate and title are declared vacant, not extinct – I had thought that you were the last of your line."

He next indicated a blue line that started in the same place as the red line ended. "This indicates that a new line was born and by the thickness of the blue line, it suggests a line of powerful magic. That line reads as Harry Jacob Vincent Wells."

Indicating a black line which joined the blue line further down, he continued. "And this line indicates that a short time later, upon the death of the then Lord Sirius Orion Black, you, as Harry Wells, became eligible to take his place as the heir to the Black estate and title."

Too much information was coming in for Harry to digest quickly. "So I died under the red line, was born anew as the blue line and was later joined by the Black line?"

"Perhaps not quite as simple as you have described it, but that would be one way to summarize it," Snagtooth gave Harry another toothless grin.

"Still, this is unusual," he said further, looking again at the parchment. "I have seen these red lines end before – but they always occur when someone actually dies.

"I do not understand how you could be born as Harry Potter, then be listed as dead and then, be listed as a new family line only later joined to the Black estate, magic and title."

Harry thought for a moment, and then smiled. "I wonder if magic considers someone dead as soon as their heart stops."

Snagtooth looked at Harry with interest. "I would like to hear that tale."

Fleur could sense Harry's unease at describing the events of Halloween 1994 and hurriedly interrupted. "Harry, when something is sealed to the Director of the Gringotts branch, then it is as confidential as Gringotts can make it. What you say here in this room stays in this room until you wish otherwise."

Harry was silent, his face indicating he was thinking through the situation carefully. Then he nodded and looking to Snagtooth, who nodded his agreement with Fleur's statement, began recounting the events in New York on Halloween.

When he had arrived at the part where his mother had employed CPR on him, the old goblin made a rare snort. "Trust magic not to realize that the non magicals have progressed further these days and that people can now be snatched from death with non-magical medicine. We are aware of these methods, but most magicals, including the wizards and witches of Britain, are not."

"But how did I become the heir to the Black estate and title," Harry next asked, confused at even hearing the name.

"Because Lord Sirius Orion Black was your godfather and he appeared to have left his estate to you."

Harry was now more and more confused. "If I cannot claim the Potter estate due to my 'death' in October 1994, how could I claim my godfather's estate after I died as Harry Potter?"

Snagtooth appeared to be considering his question carefully. "The only thing I can think of is that your godfather left his estate to you, naming you as the son of James and Lily Potter. Even though magically you were no longer Harry Potter, genetically you are still the son of James and Lily. Still, we would need to examine the will of Lord Black to confirm this.

"It will take some time – perhaps a few hours to confirm this by requesting a copy of the will by magic. In the meantime, how else can we help you today, Mr. Wells?"

Harry looked thoughtful as he considered Snagtooth's comments. It made sense that things could have ended up that way, but there were still many other questions he had and Fleur had mentioned that he could talk to them about training to be a wizard.

"Fleur mentioned that I would need training and education in what it means to be a wizard seeing as I have missed the magical schools for wizards from the age of eleven on. She also mentioned that as Harry Potter, I am somewhat of a desired item in the British wizarding world – from both the Dark Lord and one Albus Dumbledore – and I do not wish to be 'found' right now without a much better idea of what it means to be a wizard and how to defend myself from those who might want to 'do something' to me.

"Can you help me in this quest?"

Snagtooth's face registered shock. "You, a wizard, are asking a goblin for advice on what it means to be a wizard? Are you aware that we are not allowed under magical law to carry wands?"

Harry now smiled at the senior goblin. "You know what – I like the kind of magic that I have seen you do – with your hands and all. It matches what I do myself – until I saw Fleur with her wand, I didn't know that people used sticks to perform magic.

"I want my training to be confidential with no hint of my 'reappearance' going back to anyone else in the larger magical community. I want to learn hard and I want to learn fast – somehow, I don't think I have a lot of time before somebody somewhere somehow is going to suspect that the person once named Harry Potter is still around."

Here Harry's smile grew even broader. "Besides, in non-magical society, I am learning about the world of finance. I just think it would make sense to learn about wizarding finance from the experts – you guys. After all, Fleur tells me that you are the magical community's bank."

The implications of Harry Wells' statements, no Lord Black's statements, were revolutionary, Snagtooth thought to himself. He could understand Harry's reasoning and suspected that Fleur had prepared him well for this conversation. She should receive an extra bonus for having the foresight to recognize who Mr. Wells was and the wisdom to guide him to them. With his lack of magical training, he was clearly at a disadvantage in regards to international magical society and he, Snagtooth, agreed that it would probably be sooner, not later, when the British magical world would find out that Harry Potter was still alive in a fashion.

This, plus the field of study that young Mr. Wells was pursuing in his non-magical studies offered Gringotts New York a rare opportunity to introduce goblin magic and philosophy to a powerful young wizard.

"You understand, Mr. Wells, that we can recommend many tutors and trainers that can teach you magic as a wizard would learn it," he began, wanting to be sure that there was an opening here.

Harry thought about it further. "If it is a wizard or witch training or teaching, the chances go up that someone might slip up and drop a hint that the 'Boy-Who-Lived' is now learning magic. I understand from our earlier conversation that this bank puts a priority on confidentiality. Am I correct?"

Snagtooth's face took on a peevish expression. "Of course, Mr. Wells. The privacy of our clients is uppermost in our commitment to them."

"So can you arrange for training and teaching –as quickly and as confidentially as possible?"

"Yes, although our best teachers will be those from the Goblin Nation."

Harry was now curious. "You mentioned that you are not allowed to carry wands. How would the magic training be different from a goblin perspective than from a wizarding perspective?"

Snagtooth's face broke into a toothy smile. He was all predator now. "The wand carriers restrict themselves to focusing their magic through a stick or wand. To cripple a wizard or witch, you simply have to break or steal their wand. Very few can perform wandless magic."  
"Like this?" Harry replied, opening up his hand and conjuring a baseball sized light in the palm of his hand.

Both Fleur and Snagtooth were stunned. Harry did the conjuration with ease – he was obviously comfortable with his magic and could exercise his magic without a wand, but with power.

"Our approach to magic is to first ensure that the magical person can touch their magic and that they become familiar with how their magic works and flows. Once someone understands their magic and once they can command it to do what they want, then the next step of what form that magic will take will flow easily," the senior goblin began.

"Wizards and witches limit themselves to forcing their magic to work through a focus such as a wand. Once you have trained your magic to work that way, it takes much effort and unlearning to use one's magic in a different way – such as goblin magic, shamanistic magic and other forms of magic around the world.

"Our philosophy as goblins is to first learn about your magic, understand how it works, work with it until it responds to your will and then go on to use different foci or no foci if you are sufficiently powerful.

"And I suspect, Mr. Wells, that you are a powerful wizard."

Harry was drinking in the goblin's words. "I will admit something – ever since the events of that Halloween 1994, I have been able to see this ball of bright light within myself and lines of energy moving up my arms and down my legs. When I want to do something, I just follow the lines and make it happen,"

His face then grew concerned. "However, I feel that there are some broken links along these lines – like rocks in a riverbed which forces the water to break out into rapids and fast water. It is like things are not flowing as smoothly as they should be.

"Does any of this make sense?"

Snagtooth could barely restrain his excitement. "It appears Mr. Wells that you already have moved a long way down the path to understanding magic as we goblins understand it. It sounds like perhaps there were blocks on your magic in the past – perhaps the residue of the dark curse that the Dark Lord cast on you so long ago. I would suggest that we have you first visit our healers – goblin healers – who will check you out magically to be sure that all vestiges of blocks and dark residue are removed.

"As well, we need to discuss your family – all magical nations are strict on the point that under the Statutes of Secrecy, only immediate non magical family members can be aware that you are magical. In fact, it is surprising to me that the U S magical authorities have not already noticed your use of wandless magic."

Fleur nodded her head in agreement. "Master Snagtooth, I was wondering if the location of Harry's home would have something to do with it."

"Is there something unusual about Mr. Wells' home, Miss Delacour?"  
"It's underground – near several subway tunnels."

Snagtooth looked at Harry with renewed interest. "You are aware, Mr. Wells, that we goblins ourselves live underground. Our vaults also are underground."

Harry looked at Snagtooth curiously. "You mean you goblins might be our neighbors?"

"Neighbors?"

Harry now grew concerned. "Just as your magical world must remain a secret, so must the existence of our underground world. Do I have your word as a goblin that you will not divulge the existence of our world to anyone outside of this room?"

Snagtooth sat up in his chair, displeasure on every facet of his features. "Mr. Wells, have we not discussed the confidentiality of this bank?"

Harry immediately looked to apologize. "Master Goblin, I did not intend to insult you at all. It is just that many lives depend on the community I live in and its existence is a carefully guarded secret."

"We are not unaware of the dealings of others in our underground neighborhood so to speak, Mr. Wells," Snagtooth replied, his tone somewhat softened by the obvious contriteness of the young wizard. "For example, you might be interested to know that we are aware of at least three groupings of humans near our underground home."

"Three groupings?" Harry asked with obvious interest.

"Yes – one is a group of transients who live in the upper levels and only move into the tunnels underneath the city when the weather is poor or cold. Then there is a group of very unpleasant humans who follow the teachings of an unscrupulous man, now dead – they live towards the water's edge and under the bay. Finally there is a community of humans who live closer to the surface and who appear to follow a legend – a being who is both beast and man. But we do not involve ourselves in the affairs of humans – it is enough that magic shelters our existence from those who share our world.

"We simply monitor those around us to ensure that we ourselves are safe."

Fleur looked at the expressions on Harry's face as the old goblin was speaking. "Harry, do you know something?"

"Yes, Fleur. Master Snagtooth, I think I can put some names on those three communities. We are aware of the transient ones – they come and go all the time and never penetrate down below. As for your second group, we call them the Lost Ones – they were followers of Paracelsus, an evil man who sought power for power's sake. We have nothing to do with them – especially since their leader was killed by my father.

"My community must be your third group – my father is unusual in appearance and some would say that he is both man and beast. But he is the man who adopted me and he is the titular head of our community now."

"What would your father's name be, Mr. Wells?" Snagtooth asked with renewed interest.

"Vincent."

"Your father is Vincent? Then we should request a meeting soon – our director is concerned that your community is growing in numbers and is getting close to some of our vaults."

Harry quickly agreed to arrange a meeting between Vincent and the hitherto unknown Director of the Gringotts New York branch. The remainder of their time together was spent arranging for a follow-up meeting with goblin healers and negotiations over training dates and rates.

"Do you wish someone else from the bank to be your liaison, Mr. Wells," Snagtooth asked as the meeting was winding up.

"No, I believe that Fleur has been a wonderful source of information and is a good guide for me in entering the wizarding world. And she has become a good friend."

The French witch blushed at Harry's words and noted that a teasing look had returned to the young man's face. Snagtooth noted the exchange quietly, but felt that at the moment, the relationship between the two was a help, not a hindrance.

"Miss Delacour, I will advise the Director that you have taken on some additional responsibility in regards to Mr. Wells.

"Mr. Wells may your gold flow," Snagtooth concluded.

"And may your gold increase, Master Snagtooth," Harry echoed as the two humans rose and exited the office.

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**A/N: The images of the goblins in the Escape to New York, owes much to Harry Potter and the Vaults of Stone and the excellent on-going story by Robst - Harry Crow. Both stories portray a goblin culture that is rich in its own right, with values and different perspectives on magic. And while we are endeavoring not to copy these great stories, their ideas may have some echo in this story - especially in the concept of magical training. However, the actual descrptions of the golbins, are our own.**


	12. Chapter 11: Magic is The Simplest Thing

**A/N: Hello my lovelies! First, Happy Birthday to Sinatu Falretoh, one of our members :) Secondly, enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: We don't own HP...i think that's obvious, but still.**

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Chapter Eleven: Magic Is The Simplest Thing

_May 2000,  
Gringotts Medical Chambers, NY_

The only similarity between the goblins' medical chambers and the hospital chambers below were the presence of beds and even that differed in Harry's mind as he lay down on the hard stone surface surrounded by two goblins waving their hands over him. Their harsh guttural language reminded him of Star Trek episodes featuring Klingons and he briefly smiled, considering how the fictional Klingons and the goblins would get along. Probably very well, he thought to himself – the similarities were quite obvious to a person who was a Star Trek afficianado as he was.

He found himself studying the auras that flared around him under the goblin magic and thought he could even detect a black shadow as one goblin waved a hand over his forehead. Right over the scar, he thought to himself.

Abruptly, the two goblins stopped and moved backwards, talking hurriedly and animatedly in the corner of the medical chamber. Then one of them stepped out and a few minutes later, Snagtooth himself walked in.

"Mr. Wells, you never cease to surprise me," the old goblin began. "It seems that you have made medical history of a sorts. You definitely carry a dark residue from a long way back – our lead healer here suggests that it most likely corresponds to the time of your encounter with the Dark Lord.

"He believes that you were hit with the killing curse as has been speculated, but that the aftermath of the killing curse saw a portion of the soul of the Dark Lord take up residence in your scar."

It was Harry's turn to be shocked. "You mean I was carrying around a portion of the Dark Lord in my head? Was he possessing me or something like that?"

"No, Mr. Wells. It was no possession," Snagtooth hurried to reassure him. "The best thing our healers can compare it to is that the soul part acted as a parasite, leeching off your magic and life force to survive."

Even the thought of a part of the Dark Lord in his body was enough to give Harry a chill. But then another thought struck him. "Wouldn't whoever had rescued me from the cottage where my parents were killed have checked me out prior to leaving me with my relatives? Would they not have noticed the soul fragment?"

Snagtooth nodded his head. "It would have been the prudent thing to do, Mr. Wells. However, I am coming to discover that as far as you were concerned, none of the steps which should have been taken in regards to you were ever performed.

"I suspect that the same person or persons who failed to check you out for dark curse residue also applied some pretty interesting blocks upon your magic."

"Magical blocks? I don't understand."

"Our healers found evidence that confirmed your thoughts about what happened in October 1994. It appears that your body thought you died and thus any of the restrictions on your magic which had been placed on you by others were removed.

"However, these blocks leave echoes which allow someone with the magical skill to reconstruct their existence and in many cases, their purpose. You had blocks on your magic to redirect mail, to decrease your wandless and silent casting ability and just a general block limiting you to a smaller portion of your magic – our healers estimate about 35 to 40 percent."

Harry was growing confused. "Why would someone want to block my magic?"

"We are not sure, Mr. Wells. Our healers have measured your current magical potential and you score right off the scale. You are not superhuman, but you do possess enormous magical ability – at least the level of a mage, if not an archmage.

"Perhaps whoever did this wanted to ensure that you would not grow too powerful before they had a chance to train you in a particular way.."

Harry could only nod his head in agreement. "No use in tearing myself up wondering what was planned – the fact is that it never happened as they had planned.

"Mr. Wells, I couldn't agree with you more. When you are finished here, I would like to see you in my office. I have some updates on what we were talking about earlier last week and I would like to lay some options out for you."

Harry indicated his agreement and Snagtooth departed as the goblin shaman returned to complete their scans and ensure the last residues and blocks were gone.

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The room in which Harry was shown was smaller than the office where he and Fleur had met Snagtooth before, but Harry thought to himself that it looked more ferocious than the earlier office. Somehow the lighting, the realistic weapons on the walls and the overall décor suggested this office belonged to a warrior proud of his fighting skills.

His examination of the office did not go unnoticed by the old goblin. "So Mr. Wells, I see you noticed the décor. Do you approve?"

Harry blurted out before he was aware of his wayward tongue. "It looks just like what I would have expected a Klingon warrior's home to be like – all fierce and proud."

At Snagtooth's raised eybrow, Harry tried to explain. "The non-magicals have a TV program which features …" The old goblin raised his hand and for a brief moment, smiled at Harry in genuine pleasure. "I know the program young Mr. Wells. Goblins in America are not ignorant of non-magical culture and civilization and personally I find the comparison to be a flattering one.

"We are like the Klingons, only a hair or two shorter."

Harry realized Snagtooth was making a joke and he found himself more at ease with him. "I would have to agree there, but somehow I can't picture you singing war songs and hunting targ."

"Oh, but Mr. Wells, we only end up in the bank after our warrior and hunter days are over. Do not close your mind to that possibility. Now, to business as they say.

" The first item before us relates to the will of your godfather. I will give you a copy for your own perusal, but it was written as I suspected it would be. Lord Sirius Orion Black did indeed leave everything to his godson thus circumventing what could have happened if it had been left to Harry Potter.

"My colleagues in London tell me that this proviso has stymied at least one major pureblood family in Britain – the Malfoys. It appears that the scion of the family, one Draco Malfoy, would have been the next blood descendant to have been able to inherit as his mother is or was a Black, a cousin to the late Sirius Black. But the will is clear that the next heir is his godson and the only indication who the godson might be was that he was a relation to James and Lily Potter. Thus no one in the United Kingdom know who the actual heir is."

Harry took a few moments to quickly peruse the will document. It was as Snagtooth had said. "So what do I do now?"

"Well, seeing as you already accepted the basic tenets of the will, you simply now have to state aloud in my presence that you accept the inheritance and the title of Lord Black. Magic will take care of the rest."

Harry felt like standing before stating in a loud and clear voice, "I, the godson of Sirius Orion Black, accept the inheritance and title he left me and claim my new name as Lord Black." At that, his right ring finger glowed for a moment and then a heavy man's ring appeared on it.

"Ah yes, the head of house ring. It appears that magic confirms your acceptance as the new head of the House of Black. Do I address you as Lord Black?"

Harry shook his head. "No. In fact, I am uncomfortable with you always calling me Mr. Wells – I find myself always looking around for my father or grandfather. Just call me Harry."

"Well…Harry. Now to the second item of business. What is your wish for the management of this account? Do you wish it to be managed by Gringotts in London?"

"No way, Master Snagtooth. I live here, not there. Are you able to manage the account from here? Are you able to transfer everything liquid, coin and heirlooms here?"

Snagtooth was nodding now, a satisfied smile on his face. "Of course…Harry. We can manage your estate here and if you wish, once I have an up to date accounting of what your holdings are, we can sit down and discuss them further."

"Well let's set up a time soon to discuss your management of the account. I see little reason to move anything and don't forget, I would like to learn some financial management from your people."

"We appreciate your trust and confidence in Gringotts New York, Harry. Our final item is to discuss your training program and set up a time to meet your teachers. They have been vetted and tested for their ability to teach as well as respect your confidentiality. I would suggest that you return here after lunch to this office and we will portkey over to the training facilities."

"Can Miss Delacour accompany me?"

"But of course as she will be one of your teachers. She will be instructing you in charms once you have passed the magical theory and practice session with RockSlade."

Harry was already liking what he was hearing – this would give him an excuse to spend more time with the French witch, with the added benefit that he was acting on her advice.

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_June 2000  
Gringotts Training Center_

Magical theory and practice – to hear Rockslade, an old wizened goblin shaman speak, the theory and practice of magic was zen. Harry swore that Rockslade had watched the TV series Kung Fu as he remembered some of the statements he had learned in the last four intensive week.

"To train to be a warrior, one does not start with a spear, a sword or a bow. One begins with one's self. You must be the weapon before you can learn to use one.

"Magic is not something you learn to use, young Harry. Learning your magic is learning yourself. You cannot try to do this or that with your magic – you must make it happen in your heart, in your will – and then it will happen.

"Before you can do magic, you must be magic. Magic must be as natural a part of you as your heart beating or your lungs breathing. Do you tell yourself to breathe? No. Neither should you tell yourself to do magic. It just is.

"Spend an hour, young Harry, with your eyes closed to the outside and instead, feel your heart. Hear your breaths. Look to see if there is anything within you."

At first Harry had felt frustration at what appeared to be philosophical meanderings of the old shaman. He had even expressed that thought after their sixth session in which all Harry had done was fall asleep during his meditation session. Rockslade only smiled. "Oh, the impatience of youth. Try to remember, Harry, when you last performed an action with your 'gift'. What did you feel? What do you remember about your thoughts, about how your body reacted? Then go and try again."

It was after this short talk that Harry, remembering an occasion when he was lifting some heavy rocks while helping to shore up a cavern wall, saw the multi-colored ball of light in what he felt was the centre of his body for the first time. When he excitedly shared it with the old goblin, his only answer was a laconic sentence.

"Now you begin – to see a little. Continue meditation."

* * *

The site for the meeting between Snagtooth, as representative of Gringotts, and Vincent, Diana and Harry as representative of the World Below, took place near the Great Hall. Snagtooth who appeared alone walked into the chamber from what appeared to be a small cavern which quickly closed when he had entered the chamber.

Harry, who was acting as host of the meeting, introduced Vincent and Diana as his adoptive parents and then the three senior adults looked carefully at one another even as they took their seats.

Breaking the silence, Vincent extended his hand to the senior goblin. "Welcome, Master Snagtooth. While I will admit being surprised at your request for a meeting, my son has been telling me wonderful stories about your world and the help that you are furnishing him to understand magic better."

"Your son is a credit to you and your mate, Vincent," Snagtooth replied. "I will stress that this meeting and indeed knowledge of who and where we are must remain confidential."

"We are used to keeping secrets, Master goblin," Diana replied, extending her own hand. The senior goblin took it in turn and then pulled a map out of his waistcoat.

"On behalf of the director of the New York branch of Gringotts, the purpose of this initial meeting is to gain a better understanding of your world and those places where our two worlds might interact – to ensure that we respect one another's boundaries. Then perhaps we can discuss future mutual associations.

"We do not associate with humans easily as we have found wizards and witches tend to look down on us – although perhaps we might be some of the cause of our own problems as we tend to react quickly and violently to perceived insults." Here Snagtooth smiled, baring no teeth, but somehow conveying a warrior's presence all the same.

Vincent found himself becoming comfortable with the old banker – although he could sense Snagtooth was capable of great violence, his control was evident and while the old goblin appeared cautious around him, there was no fear, but a hint of genuine respect.

Bowing his head to Snagtooth, he smiled back taking care to conceal his own fangs. "I sense an honorable warrior, Master goblin, and from one warrior to another, I salute you."

Harry could not quite understand the byplay that was going on, but noticed the goblin seemed to relax further as he spread out a map on the table between them. "Then let us begin by comparing maps and where your community lies…."

* * *

"So you ended up taking over the banking and financial services for the wizarding community," Diana asked, several cups of tea and one bottle of goblin ale later. Snagtooth had not seemed offended when both Vincent and Diana begged off the drink after having one small sip.

"Yes, it appears that the wand carriers as we like to call them do not trust us with wands, but they trust us with their gold. In fact, I believe that your son is the first human in several generations to actually talk with us about learning how we invest those assets entrusted to us."

A daring idea began bubbling up in Harry's mind as Snagtooth was speaking and before he could rein it in, it burst forth. "Dad, could we talk to Snagtooth about investing some of the legacy funds from the Chandler Foundation? You could actually be a bit more involved as Snagtooth has met you whereas the financial houses we deal with up top have not."

Vincent considered the idea carefully. "We are not wizards Harry – with the exception of you and possibly Erin."

Snagtooth's eyes had lit up at the possibility of landing this legendary figure as a client. "However, Vincent, you are magical in your own way – and you are the parents of wizards. There would be no issue from our bank's point of view."

"What would be the advantages for us as well as for you?" Diana asked, a bit more cautious than her husband.

"Well, those wizards who trust us have found on average that they have received returns greater than 10 to 20 per cent a year for the past several decades. We adopt a balanced approach….."

* * *

He was only called the Blademaster and from his first encounter with Harry as his teacher, Harry rated him as the toughest, meanest SOB that he had ever had the misfortune to encounter.

His routine now included runs through the tunnels with a fifty pound backpack of rocks on his back, half hour sessions of cuts and thrusts with his body only as he learned just how many ways he could use his body as a weapon and finally, after four weeks, his first introduction to a sword.

"You may be passible in several generations, young wizard," Blademaster told him after the second week. "You begin to show that you have a brain between your ears," Blademaster told him after the fourth week.

His schedule had become a marathon. The only good thing was that he had finished the second semester of his sophomore year and now he had a few months of 'free time' to intensify his studies. From magical theory and practice he went to weapons and physical fitness with Blademaster to magical history, customs and society with a young wizard who was almost too much in his enthusiasm for the subject.

And now, thanks to his idea which had been shared at the first of several meetings between the ruling council of the World Below and the goblin representative Snagtooth, he was learning goblin financial administration with a quarter of the Catherine Chandler legacy and appreciating their cut throat approach to business.

"Never get so attached to a holding that you do not act if the prospects of it going bad or tanking as you Americans call it are present," Snagtooth's assistant Griplock explained to Harry as they were seated in his much smaller office.

"So you are saying that humans get over attached to some holdings or investments?"

"We goblins rarely hang on to any holding for sentimental reasons. Those same reasons can kill you. When on a battlefield, once your enemy is vanquished, cut his throat. Too many times in human history, an enemy left for dead can rise up and kill you in turn when your back is turned."

Harry was tempted to say something, but then grew silent as he remembered his first year course on WWII in the Pacific and the practices of some Japanese soldiers after being wounded in firefights.

"Griplock, you may have a point there."

* * *

_End of June 2000  
Tunnels into The World Below_

I am a fool, a now frustrated French witch told herself as the sound of the winds increased. She thought she had taken a wrong turn and she had begun seeing rock formations and tunnel glimpses that she had not seen before.

Then her torch died and she found herself in darkness,

She had thought she was familiar with darkness – her stay at Hogwarts during the TriWizard Tournament in the middle of nowhere in northern Scotland had taught her that. The lack of light pollution from neighboring cities had left the night skies above Hogwarts black as pitch when the skies were cloudy and the moon was new.

But now, her senses screamed for light – even imagined light. She could hear the dripping of water from nearby, the distant sounds of the winds howling – but the familiar sounds of clanging pipes and subway trains were absent.

She felt for her wand and spoke with s slightly tremulous voice "Lumos." The sudden onrush of light blinded her and her eyes closed, if only for a moment. When they opened again, there stood a figure from one of her magical cultures around the world books – a vodoun mambo.

How she had managed to approach her without giving her presence away Fleur did not know. And a closer examination of the woman told her she was blind. Yet, with her Veela senses, Fleur could also tell that this woman was a woman of power in her own right.

"Aieee…child of fire, child of passion. Old Narcissa bids you welcome to her world," the mambo began. "I have long foreseen this day – you will be linked to the child of destiny." As she was speaking, Narcissa had grabbed hold of Fleur's arm and suddenly Fleur felt herself being dragged along down a tunnel.

"Come with Narcissa, child of flame. Narcissa would get to know you and help you to adjust to this world. It will be your home in the future as you will help the child of destiny achieve his future."

Initially, Fleur wanted to resist Narcissa's pull as she found herself going down tunnels she had never seen before. The woman was magical in her own way even if her kind of magic was only discussed at Beauxbatons, but not thoroughly explored. The world of vodoun was looked down on by the European magical societies, but at least their instructor at the French magical school had not discounted the magic altogether.

What held off Fleur from doing something to stop Narcissa, however, was the sense that the black mambo meant her no harm. Instead, her reading of Narcissa suggested that her intentions towards her were good ones. But what was this she was speaking about in relation to her and a child of destiny.

A thought crossed her mind even as they continued their slow descent down unknown tunnels. She had heard words about her and Harry before from Harry's youngest sister, Erin – something about being together with Harry.

Her teachers at Beauxbatons had encouraged her to not look down on other forms of magic – instead she had been taught to see what lessons she could learn from other practitioners of magical arts. So she would see what this Narcissa could tell her.

Soon enough she entered a cave with many articles of voudoun with incense and candles burning in many places. She could sense the power of the place and gained a new respect for this blind mambo.

What followed was one of the strangest conversations Fleur remembered. Narcissa was a fountain of information on her vodoun and in her singsong voice, she talked about the magic of the tunnels, the world above, the loas she was contact with and her use of vodoun to protect the community.

"You child of flame are beloved of Erzulie Freda, the spirit of love, but your heart is one of fire, aggression for those you love. You will have need of another of the nation of Rada, the cool, calm one, who will serve to anchor both you and the child of destiny," Narcissa had said at one point.

The scents of the burning candles, incense and meal collided with a sense of both light and dark magic for the young French witch as she remembered anew that vodoun was a form of magic that dealt with both sides of magic. After what seemed an interminable time, her head began to swim and Narcissa laid a gentle hand on Fleur's arm.

"It is enough for you for the moment, dear one," she told the young woman. "Those above are searching for you and they grow worried. There will be many more times when we will be able to learn from one another."

Guiding Fleur back through the Chamber of Winds, the blind woman unerringly proceeded to the edge of the Hub tunnels and then turned back, leaving Fleur to consider her descents – into a deeper world below and into the world of vodoun.

But the greater question which filled her mind now was her future relationship with Harry Jacob Vincent Wells – this was now the second time that a total stranger had told her that she was destined to be with the child of destiny – and she did admit that it was a pleasing prospect. But there were two complications – what did Harry think of this and who was this other that both Erin and Narcissa had hinted at?

* * *

"Ah, I sense that you feel your magic, that you have touched your core," Rockslade said in a calm voice. Yet Harry swore he could sense a hint of pride in the ancient goblin's words. "Now we will begin to manipulate it and help you achieve your intent.

"Remember, young Mr. Wells. Magic is above all else intent. Without your will, without your intent – nothing happens. Let us now explore extending your magic."

"_Lumos!"_

The light burst forth from his extended hand to the delight of Fleur and the amazement of his family. This was the first public manifestation of Harry's magic before his family and it brought home as never before that he was more than just a young man growing up in the tunnels and attending university.

But his next words startled them all.

"Mom, Dad, Fleur – all of you are glowing. Even Jacob, Catherine and especially Erin."

Fleur was the quickest to grasp what Harry was seeing. "You are seeing their auras, Harry. And most likely, you are seeing the glow from the gifts they themselves have.

"I think Erin is glowing the brightest because she is a witch herself. But most of all, you are seeing what only we Veela have ever seen – that all people have some form of magic within.

"And now that you have learned to access your magic directly – now we begin to use foci such as a blade or a wand," Rockslade nodded with satisfaction. "You are a powerful young wizard Mr. Wells and now we will begin to form and mold your magic until it responds to your commands as the other parts of your body respond.

"Let us begin."

* * *

**A/N: Well, what did you think? Good, bad, horrible? Review and tell us! Flames won't be accepted, and i can't think of what to make with them, so don't send any, cus they're useless. And remember, if you see any mistakes, tell us ASAP so we can fix them :D**


	13. Chapter 12: Detectives at Work

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm sososososososo sorry about how late this is! -hangs head in shame-  
So, this is the longest chapter we've ever written :D Yay us! 7,159 words, not inclduding A/N's :D.**

**This chapter is in 5 parts, as you will soon witness. I hope you like it, because that's why we wrote it, to please you guys :)**

**Disclaimer: As you should all know by now, we don't own the original ideas of BatB or HP, just the one's that made this possible.**

**And with that out of the way, we give you the long awaited chapter 13...**

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: Detectives at Work

**Part 1: Goblin Detective Training**

"This is highly irregular, Master Snagtooth," Griplock said, waving the piece of paper at his supervisor. "We cannot tell him anything yet this information is critical for Mr. Wells to understand the influences in his past life."

"The rules of the treaties are clear – if the British Ministry has sealed something, then we cannot just hand it to someone else with our comments on what may or may not have happened.

"However, should young Mr. Wells discover an item while he is in the course of going through the paperwork of his own new vault, then he would have discovered the papers by himself. And if you just happen to slip the interesting papers into the file by accident, well…accidents happen, even here at Gringotts."

Griplock now smiled a predatory grin as he looked at his supervisor and mentor. "Once again you demonstrate to me why you are a senior manager, Master Snagtooth. I shall return and review my student Mr. Wells' work and give him some new papers to peruse in deepening his understand of estate management."

The file that his goblin financial teacher had given him was unusually thick and was full of parchments and even heavier papers.

"The following are papers that come from your own new vaults, Mr. Wells," Griplock was saying as Harry examined the folder carefully. "One of the critical elements of estate management is to bring you up to date on the contents of papers in your estate vaults. As these have just arrived following the successful transfer of your vault holdings from London to here, I ask you to go through each piece of paper, categorizing them and making entries in your workbook that answer the questions – what is the paper; what is its significance and does the paper or parchment call for further action? If you are unclear on the meaning of a piece of parchment, make special note and when you return at our next session, we can discuss it."

"And I thought I would have no homework in this course," Harry grumbled even as he rose to leave with the folder.

"A banker's work is never done, Mr. Wells," the goblin replied. "Many have been the hours I have spent myself going through dusty files and old parchments – but it can pay off in finding lost gold or treasure.

"May your gold flow, Mr. Wells."

"And may your enemies tremble at your blade, Griplock," he replied with a bow.

* * *

"Is it done?"

"Yes, Master Snagtooth, it is done."

"Well now, let us see how good a financial student Mr. Wells really is."

It was only the third time that Fleur had come below and the two young people were sitting huddled over the folder in the library chamber. Fleur was feeling more and more at home with this underground community and was proud of the fact that she had navigated the tunnels by herself this time without getting lost. Now if only navigating the paperwork of the Black estate would be as easy.

Harry was both intrigued and frustrated. Initially he had tried to simply peruse the file but found that there were many old documents with dates indicating the late 17th or early 18th centuries. Didn't his godfather believe in a filing cabinet? He found himself quickly becoming lost in the labyrinth of papers and he had finally been forced to go back and sort the papers and parchments into piles by date.

He appreciated his friend Fleur volunteering to spend time with him even though she had tried to tempt him to use magic to sort the papers into order.

"I got the distinct impression from Griplock that he wanted me to review these papers the old fashioned way – I am supposed to give him a report that proves that I have scanned each one and answered his questions," Harry told her.

"Anything interesting?"

"Well, I can tell you that the price of sheep stayed remarkably stable for several decades in the 18th century and that the Black family appeared to have some predilection for dark magic and dark arts. But I've just started looking at these parchments of the last twenty years. Why don't we take a look?"

He picked up the eight to ten parchment sheets from the period he had referred to and split it in two, giving one pile to Fleur and taking the other himself. Then he settled down to read and make notes in his finance course workbook.

A sudden noise came Fleur drew his attention from a list of holdings of the Black Estate as of September 15, 1996.

"Fleur? Did you find something?"

Fleur's eyes had grown wide and her face seemed paler. "Oh, Harry. I am so sorry!"

"Sorry for what?"

She held out two pieces of parchment to him. "These are official copies of your birth parents' wills. They are dated July 31, 1981."

Harry had been curious since his rediscovery of the wizarding world about what his birth parents' wills would say and he almost snatched them out of Fleur's hands in his eagerness to read them. However, the first thing he noticed was the read stamp on each page of the parchments – "Sealed to the Ministry of Magic".

"What does this mean – sealed to the Ministry of Magic?"

Fleur wrinkled her forehead in concentration. "I am not familiar with British magical law, Harry. However, all Gringotts employees receive some basic introduction to common law and basic English legal concepts, especially since we deal with a country here in America founded on British legal principles.  
"I believe sealing a will means that the provisions of the will were never carried out – that they were never acted upon. It would take an extraordinary event to seal a will."

Harry by now was lost in reading his birth mother and birth father's wills. Both documents were similar in tone and language and both laid out clear plans for the care of their son. The names of potential guardians such as Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Frank and Alice Longbottom, and Andromeda and Ted Tonks passed by Harry's eyes with only Sirius Black's name sparking a note of recognition. The provision which appeared near the bottom of each document was what he zeroed in on – _Under no circumstances is our son to be placed with either Petunia or Vernon Dursley. Their strong sentiments against the magic of our house would put Harry in danger of abuse._

The name on the bottom of the will indicated it had been witnessed by Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore.

So his parents intentions had never been for him to be placed with his 'relatives' – his birth parents had known that were he to end up with his relatives, he would suffer abuse. A sudden spike of red hot rage flashed through him as he considered that whoever had sealed the will of his birth parents had also sentenced him to eight years of hell on earth.

But who could have done this act? How had he ended up with his relatives? Where was his godfather in all of this? He had learned in Modern Magical History with the goblins that his godfather was arrested a few days after the death of his parents – and subsequently thrown into Azkaban for purportedly betraying his parents.

He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. The more he dug through his godfather's affairs, the more questions were raised. He had hoped to find some answers, not more of a mystery.

* * *

**Part 2: The Mom Detective Agency**

Then the idea struck him – mystery. Mysteries involved questions, an investigation, finding answers and painstaking research – and there was one person in his world who was a master at investigation and digging out the truth. Mom.

Too many times he had been the subject of her investigative powers and too many times he or one of his siblings had been found out for some prank or misdeed – it was hard to lie or even attempt to cover up from parents who could sense if you were lying or not telling the whole truth. But while Diana Bennett Wells had tried mightily to shelter her family from her work and her talent in the world of investigative police work, Joe's occasional forays down below to ask for her help in extreme cases had taught her family one thing – she was a force of nature when she was on a case and she was very, very good.

It was time to bring in Mom.

Thus fifteen minutes later, Diana was seated in the library council chamber with Fleur and Harry directly in front of her and the copies of the wills of James and Lily Potter in her hand. She was perusing the wills, but only Fleur could sense that she was also stretching out her talent to draw what she could from the documents themselves.

"The impressions I can gather from these documents are faint at best," she said, touching the parchments. "They were afraid of something – deathly afraid….they were being hunted…they loved you greatly and wanted to make sure that you were safe….they were more afraid for you than for themselves…." Her eyes were closed as she tried to wring out the emotional attachments from the paper. "There was a loathing combined with sadness in regards to a sister from this parchment….a break between the sisters….fear of what they would do to you if they had the chance…"

She opened her eyes and looked at both young people. "Harry, your birth parents loved you deeply and the actions they took were to protect you – that comes across very clearly from these papers. It had to be strong to have remained with these papers this long.

"Unfortunately, I can get no further information from this."

With an apologetic smile, Fleur took out another parchment and handed it to Diana. Turning to Harry, she explained. "This was the last will and testament of your godfather – and it was dated for February 16, 1994. Once you explained what your mother could do, then I thought perhaps we could learn something from this as well."

Harry had been surprised to see the document but agreed once he thought about it. He had divided the pile of documents into two groupings and she had given up her free time to give him a hand.

"Mom, could you try with this?" He had noted how drawn his mother looked after touching his birth parents' wills and was concerned that she not overdo it.

"It might be easier with a more recent document although after this, I suggest that we don't do any more reviews today," she said with a tired air.

She held the parchment again and closed her eyes. "You were scared….foul things from the pit of hell….why did you not even have a trial….no sign of him….the old fool must have done something…rumors…he must be getting desperate….how to make sure that everything be left to Harry…not a sign, not a sniff of him anywhere….got to get the rat….make the rat pay….why did the old fool stick Harry there…." Abruptly she broke contact and sagged back into the chair.

"Mom…Mom….are you okay?" Harry rose up and ran to her side. She lifted her hand in a gesture to stop him.

"I'm….fine….your godfather, Harry, had very strong feelings about things, but his thoughts tend to be chaotic and even helter skelter."

Fleur nodded her agreement. "He escaped from one of the worst prisons in the magical world – Azkaban. The guards there are Dementors, a vile form of being who exist by robbing people of all their happy memories – they are even used to kill criminals by sucking the soul out of them. What they leave is a soulless husk.

"Sirius Black was Kissed by a Dementor in June 1994 although he remained alive until November 1994."

Both mother and son shuddered at the thought of beings who sucked out all happy thoughts and who could literally suck out someone's soul. Anew Harry wondered if he really wanted to continue his education to learn more about this world – on one hand it was brilliant in what he could now do, but on the other hand did he want to meet Dementors?

However, he needed answers now and while Diana had the gift of empathy to draw out emotions from objects and places, she also had a sharp investigative mind. And it was this that he was now interested in consulting.

"Mom, I'm frustrated and confused. Based on what Fleur here has been telling me, I'm the object of interest of a Dark Lord who wants to kill me, and also a so called good guy, who tried to kill me while trying to find me.

"Now I have wills left by my birth parents who made it clear that I was not be left with my 'relatives' as they hated magic and would abuse me – yet those wills were sealed and I ended up with those very relatives.

"And one of the witnesses to those wills was the very same 'good' guy who tried to kill me.

"Mom, what in heaven's name is going on?"

Diana turned to Fleur. "What does it mean to seal a will? Is it similar to ignoring and overriding the provisions of a will?"

Fleur repeated her earlier comments to Harry. "In France, it would take extraordinary reasons to ignore the provisions of a will and to refuse to carry it out. Whoever would contest a will would have to demonstrate before a court why the will's provisions should be ignored and what proposals should be made to correct or carry out a will.

"However, we in France look down on Magical Britain as it appears to be a corrupt place where laws are ignored and where money and bribes appear to the only way to get things done.

"Unfortunately, I do not know much about how things are done in magical Britain – I am only going on the rumors I have heard and the few times I have been in Britain myself. During the eight months I was there at Hogwarts, the leading British magical school, I experienced insult, prejudice and verbal abuse – simply because I am a Veela. Under British magical law, that makes me at the same level as a magical animal." The last words were spat out with a vehemence that startled both Diana and Harry who had never seen the French witch so worked up before.

They both were silent and allowed the young woman some time to come down from her obviously angry state. When the red tinges had left her cheeks, Diana cautiously began to move the discussion forward.

"You mentioned in the discussion with us a few weeks ago that Harry was called the Boy-Who-Lived. When considering a crime, one of the first things any detective or police officer would do is ask questions – who would do the crime and why would the criminal do it? I think it is safe to say that the crime or the questionable acts are as follows - sealing the Potter wills and sending Harry to live with his relatives when his parents had specifically excluded sending him there. There are some other strange occurrences – sending a man subsequently proven innocent to prison, killing that same man without even questioning him and the most obvious questionable act – killing Harry when someone was trying to find him."

Diana brought out a yellow legal pad and began sketching out a diagram. "Fact – the will handled details of your care. Fact – those wills were ignored. Fact – you ended up in an abusive environment. Fact – you died due to a magic spell fired off by a good guy leader. Fact – they were waiting for you to appear at this magical school. Fact – your godfather was innocent, yet thrown in jail, then killed without an attempt to get at the truth."

As she was speaking, she was writing the events in circles on the pad. To Harry and Fleur, there seemed no pattern to the circles, but to the practiced eye of Diana, one common element was becoming clear.

"Harry – it may not appear obvious, but everything revolves around you. You are the common element here."  
Both young people sat back in sudden shock. It made sense in a weird kind of way. Diana continued her thoughts.

"The will gave control to your godfather and sure as anything he would not have allowed you to stay with the Dursleys. The emotions coming off that will included strong concerns about you – that was very clear to me. And if he was taken out of the picture, there were a number of other people to step up to the plate. So whoever sealed the will wanted to ignore your parents' wishes.

"As for your placement at the Dursleys, your father and I were discussing the entire story that you shared with us Fleur and one thing struck me. You mentioned a couple of things – Harry Potter was named The-Boy-Who-Lived and stories were told about a wonderful childhood, yet they had no basis in reality. While Harry was supposed to be living in a protected place, he was actually being abused terribly – we know the extent of that abuse because we dealt with some pretty horrific consequences. Then you tell us about the search for Harry and the final Dark spell that was cast to find him. That smells to me of an act of desperation, of someone who wanted to risk everything on one last roll of the dice.  
"So your father and I thought that perhaps your placement with the Dursleys was deliberate – if you had been exposed to magic at the age of eleven as Fleur tells me is normal in the magical world, whoever would have rescued you from your 'relatives' …."

"Would have been seen by me as a savior," Harry completed the sentence with a hint of anger and bitterness.

"I think that the motive for these actions Harry is to control you somehow. My impressions from your parents' wills was that they were scared more for you than themselves – they were being hunted but for you, not them. I think they gave their lives to protect you – and whoever overrode their wills wanted to control you somehow."

Fleur now grew pensive. "If only I could discuss this with mon pere. He fought on the side of the good guys against the Dark Lord during the first war – France was concerned that if the Dark Lord became too strong that he would not be content with Britain, so our Ministry of Magic sent some 'volunteers' to fight alongside the British Aurors."

"Aurors?" Both Harry and Diana asked simultaneously.

"The magical word for our police and armed forces. We do not really have standing armies as our population is way too low and we are too mixed in with the non-magical population."

Diana thought about Fleur's comments and then another idea came to mind. "Anyone who could seal a will would have to have enormous power or influence to pull it off," she began. "And there is one name that has come up a few times in your stories and in reviewing these documents.

"Albus Dumbledore."

The three looked at one another. Harry was mentally kicking himself – all the facts were there and yet it took his mother to put all the pieces together. Why could he not have seen it? Fleur was wishing greatly for the presence of her father – she knew he had much more knowledge than she had and felt that if Diana and her father could compare notes, then a much clearer picture could emerge. Diana felt comfortable with her initial conclusions – she felt the motive was clear and thought she had a good guess on who the actual perpetrator was, but was still unclear on what the old man wanted to achieve. The method was clear – control Harry, but control him to do what was the big question.

But who could they bring in to explore the situation further without tipping their hand that Harry Potter was still alive in some form? That she did not know.

* * *

**Part 3: Goblin Detectives**

"Apprentice Wells, how did your perusal of the folder of documents go?" Griplock asked two days later.

Dare he ask the questions that had been burning within since he had discovered the wills, Harry wondered to himself. He had thought the issue through and discussed it thoroughly with his parents and Fleur before deciding he would risk it.

"My completed notes await your review, Master Griplock. However, I did note a number of peculiarities."

He had said it quietly yet he swore later that it appeared as if Griplock had stopped breathing for a second at his comment. "Peculiarities? Explain."

"First of all, I noticed the inclusion of my birth parents' wills in the folder. Secondly, it was in reviewing these wills that I noticed some terms with which I was not familiar.

"Why would my parents' wills have been included in that file? And secondly, what does the term sealed by the Wizengamot refer to?

Harry now held his breath in anticipation of Griplock's reply. Of course, the goblin teacher did not disappoint.

"Your parents' wills you say? Perhaps they were included because your godfather was the first line executor for your parents in regards to you.

"As for being sealed by the Wizengamot, one of your lessons in estate management Mr. Wells is to ensure that you have reviewed all pertinent documentation regarding an estate. And now that you are the new head of the House Black, you can review the following papers which were received for the late Lord Black from the British Ministry of Magic." With that, the goblin handed two official looking forms to Harry and Harry reviewed them quickly.

The first was an order from the Wizengamot of Great Britain dated November 1, 1981 which ordered the sealing of the wills of Lily and James Potter under the authority of Chief Warlock Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. The second was a signed recognition dated November 8, 1981 that the same Albus Dumbledore was now acting as the magical guardian for one Harry James Potter and was signed both by Dumbledore and British Minister of Magic Millicent Bagnold.

Looking up from the documents to Griplock, Harry indicated the will sealing order. "The order does not give the reason why," he began. "As for the recognition of Dumbledore as my magical guardian it somehow looks less official than the order sealing the Potter wills. Why is there a difference?"

"Our London brethren said the first order was definitely issued by Chief Warlock Dumbledore and came from his office – thus the official Wizengamot seal. He exercised the authority given to him under the Wizengamot charter though he was expected to be able to justify his action should any member of the Wizengamot had requested more information. The second order was not truly official as it appears to have been an agreement between the then British Minister of Magic and Dumbledore. Had a competent lawyer challenged it, it most likely would not have stood up to the light of day."

"May I have a copy of each form?" Harry now requested.

"Keep the originals, Mr. Wells," Griplock replied. "Now let us return to what other lessons you gleaned from reviewing the contents of that file."

* * *

**Part 4: Harry Wells – Romance Detective**

Another Tuesday – another coffee date for Fleur and Harry.

She had grown to love the atmosphere of Second Cup – the smells of the different blends of coffee, people seated at small tables engaged in animated conversations, even a few brave souls working on their large laptop computers, impervious to the noise around them.

But most of all, it gave her a set time to meet with the one wizard beside her father who appreciated her as an individual rather than a sex object.

She had been surprised at how easily she had fit in with Harry and his family as they had started the training with the goblins and their ongoing attempts to unravel the mystery surrounding the death of Harry's birth parents and his placement with his relatives. But these meetings at Second Cup were different.

She viewed their weekly coffee sessions which had begun their second week as her time with Harry, a break from the other issues surrounding their lives.

Of course, seeing him on a weekly basis had led to conversations on a wide range of topics and she had learned to read Harry well. In part, this was due to her Veela nature – she was sensitive to the emotions and desires of people close to her and she had only recently admitted to herself that Harry was getting _very_ close. But as well, she had seen Harry in a variety of moods and she was becoming sensitive to minute changes in his emotions.

Thus, seeing Harry this late Tuesday in June, she immediately sensed something was troubling him.

He was already seated in their regular spot by the window and he was toying with a spoon stirring it in his coffee. As she approached, he rose as a matter of courtesy, but sat down again once she had found her seat. A pregnant silence came over them and Fleur tried to sense what would have happened.

She could see Harry was troubled about something and that he was trying to guard his emotions – in fact he was doing a fairly good job of it, she found out. But the silence remained for a few minutes even as she was studying him closely. Then he spoke.

"It's been an interesting exercise trying to sound out reasons for things that have happened in the past. I think we have made good progress in trying to figure out the motives for the various events that have happened in my life, even if they occurred several years ago.

"However, that got me wondering about other things – about motives and reasons why certain people are doing things today." He then grew silent and stared at his coffee mug.

"Harry, are you alright? Is there something bothering you that I can help you with?" Fleur asked to break the silence.

Harry started at her words and for a second looked almost guilty. Then his gaze returned to his coffee mug while he began speaking again.

"Fleur, I had a very eye opening morning with Snagtooth and my etiquette teacher at Gringotts. I learned a few things and I would like to ask you some questions, although you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

She nodded her acceptance and he seemed to gather up his courage. "Snagtooth has been filling me on the Black estate and the family holdings. He was telling me of the project that Gringotts has been pursuing in encouraging all wizards and witches to be tested for possible inheritances.

"He even explained why from the goblin perspective it made sense. Something about getting assets active again and allowing them an opportunity to make more money from asset management.

"He also told me about the bonus that is payable to bank employees for finding long lost heirs and inheritances."

Here Harry stopped to sip twice from his coffee. At the slight scowl on his face, Fleur guessed his coffee had grown lukewarm. But before she could perform a quick warming spell, he waved his hand slightly and steam rose from his cup.

"Snagtooth also explained to me about Veela – who they are, their natures and how they are viewed by different magical societies. All this information coupled with what we have discovered about people wanting to control me got me to thinking Fleur.

"It got me to thinking about you, Fleur – and I.

"What is going on, Fleur, between us? Why did you pursue following me up after our initial contact?

"Why don't I have the reaction to you that other non Veela males seem to have towards you?

"How much of our friendship is real and how much is a fraud?"

The flurry of questions at first caught Fleur off guard. What was he thinking – that she had pursued him for a bank bonus? Or that she was trying to seduce him? Did he not remember what his own sister had said the day they had met?

But then while she had begun exploring her own thoughts about this man, especially since the encounter with Narcissa, she had not come to any final conclusions. Or rather she just had not admitted them to herself.

She could understand the motivation for his seeking answers now. The revelations of how his life appeared to have been affected by one bearded old man's desire for control no doubt had opened his mind to asking about other relationships – including the friendship with her.

However, she knew one thing immediately. Harry was no longer the missing Potter boy. In fact, he had ceased being that within the first few days of their acquaintance. He was Harry Wells in his own right, someone she was coming to call a close friend – and someone she was hoping could become more.

She replayed the words of Erin and Narcissa quickly, but realized that in working to solve the mystery of Harry's placement, these thoughts had been pushed somewhat to the background. Perhaps it was time to reveal her own thoughts to him – even if it might mean losing him.

"Harry, look at me please," she asked in a gentle voice, taking his hand. HE did not withdraw it, but instead looked worried and scared, but still resolute.

"Harry, first of all, you are my friend. You are the first male friend I have ever had outside of my own father. If you remember your discussions with Snagtooth and others about Veela, then you might remember how we Veela are viewed. However, you cannot realize how difficult it is to move around the magical world with a gift such as mine.

"I often call it more a curse than a gift.

"Every man who sees me desires me – or lusts after me. They see my form, my body, my hair – and they are driven to foolish irresponsible behavior. They seek to own me – to possess me – but not to know me.

"And then you came, a young man who saved my life, opened himself and his family to me and who sees me as a person, not an object.

"Do you know how liberating that is? You see Fleur, the young woman, not the sex object.

"How could I not fall for such a man?"

At Harry's widening eyes, she gave a rueful chuckle. "Yes, Harry Jacob Vincent Wells. I have been falling for you for some time now."

She then gave an impish grin even as her eyes filmed over with a layer of unshed tears. "And I refused to claim any bonus for finding you.

"You are my bonus."

The look of relief on Harry's face was palpable and he broke into the first smile she had seen him give that day.

"I think I might be falling for you too. Shall we continue with our coffee?"

* * *

**Part 5: Detective Versus Auror**

While Diana Bennett Wells had grown accustomed to living in the tunnels below as part of the price of living with the man she loved and the family they were raising together, she could not get enough of the daylight and sun that bathed Central Park in the summer. Today was no different for her – it had been a late night the previous day as she, Fleur, Harry and Vincent had reviewed the orders from the Wizengamot and the announcement that Dumbledore had assumed magical guardian duties over Harry. They had thrown different ideas back and forth with Diana becoming more and more convinced that the various events around the Potter wills and changes in magical guardian all fit into a pattern of Dumbledore trying to keep and maintain control over Harry. The goal of that control was still not clear, but Diana's investigative instincts told her this was the direction to follow.

Today however was a day for Catherine and Erin in the park. The two girls, eight and six, today were enjoying the chance to run and play in and around the pond, feeding the birds and lapping up their mother's indulgent attention.

A glance at the two girls would tell any neutral observer that these were her girls – there was no hint of dark hair such as their cousin Alex had – instead Catherine's strawberry blond tresses definitely showed her father's influence even as her frame told anyone watching that she would grow up to match her mother in height. Erin's hair showed more of her coloring, but she was shorter and promised to be a more compact child as she grew older.

One of Diana's practices in any location was to do periodic sweeps of the surroundings even as she was relaxing with the girls. A holdover from her fulltime police beat days, she trusted her instincts to keep her informed if there was any suggestion of trouble. One additional feature of her periodic sweeps had come about from her training with Vincent on how to fully utilize her gifts and it was that gift which now alerted her that something was not normal in the scene before her.

The sun was lowering in the west and the shadows across the park grounds told her that it was nearing the time when she and the girls would have to return home. She had been looking forward to the evening – Fleur was coming again this evening, but it would be an evening with no thought given to mysteries, investigations or manipulative old men and dark lords.

It would be a simple games night with the girl that Diana was thinking more and more as a prospective daughter-in-law. And if the feelings she was sensing from both Harry and Fleur were accurate, things were moving rather quickly in that direction.

One of the reasons she had come out with the girls was to await Fleur and welcome her as a surprise – Fleur still was not fully at ease in negotiating the way down to the Hub and the Commons of the world below.

Now, in her sweeps with her senses fully alert, she sensed that someone was watching her and the girls.

Beginning with a slow survey even as she continued to respond to the girls excited chatter, she began quartering the ground around her. At first nothing appeared to her – there were no hints of strangers watching her or even paying unwelcome attention to the small group. But the feeling of being watched would not go away – in fact, it began to strengthen.

She turned back towards the path from the known location of the Magical Mall and she could see the blond head and shoulders of the young French witch as she made her way towards them. Then she felt it – a sudden sharp spike of interest in the young girl – there in the bushes not twenty feet from her left.

Rising slowly, Diana moved in careful, but powerful strides to the place where her senses were telling her someone was waiting. Someone was waiting for Fleur – the sense of anticipation was becoming stronger as she slowly angled closer to the site. Yet the intentions did not seem menacing – they seemed happier than anything else although curiosity as to her presence in the park also featured prominently in the emotions Diana was reading from the location.

There – a sudden spike of alarm as Diana walked close enough to smell the unseen individual's aftershave. Definitely a male, she thought to herself even as she drew her police service revolver. She had taken to wearing it even for short jaunts in the park with the girls because she knew the park's denizens and wanted to ensure they were safe.

Pointing the gun at the spot where she sensed the observer was standing, she hissed sharply, "I may not see you, but I know exactly where you are. I sense you mean no harm, but I will not take any chances. Unveil yourself and come forward."

She heard a muttered "Zut!" and then the strangest thing she had ever seen yet happened. First a head of a man in his early forties with distinguished graying temples emerged from the bushes and then his shoulders and finally his whole body emerged from what appeared to be thin air.

"Madame, I mean you no harm. I was simply trying to surprise my daughter who is now walking this way," he said in English with only the hint of a French accent.

"And you are?" Diana asked, not lowering her revolver for a second. She was attempting to shield the revolver from her two girls still playing near the pond.

"Sebastien Delacour from the Republic of France," came his reply. Further words were interrupted by the greeting Fleur gave to first the two girls and then to Diana until she saw the man standing near her.

Diana knew that Fleur Delacour was a very intelligent young woman, but she found out that the French witch had an explosive temper as Fleur's eyes went wide even as she first called out, "Papa?" before launching into a veritable explosion of French words and phrases, which if Diana could judge by the reaction of the man was definitely on the unfriendly side.

She quietly put the gun away, satisfied by now that this stranger was clearly Fleur's father. She then backed away and called her girls to her before turning again to the self-identified Sebastien Delacour.

"Mr. Delacour, I presume?" she said in a quiet tone. Surprisingly, her words broke Fleur's tirade and Sebastien nodded his head.

"Congratulations, madame. It is not often that someone gets the draw on Sebastien Delacour, former Head Auror for the Magical Republique de la France," the distinguished man said with a disarming smile.

Diana could see the similarities between father and daughter and she relaxed, holstering her gun with an economy of movement. "Well, it helps to be a police detective, so you have no cause to be ashamed."

Fleur by now had calmed herself and now approached the pair. "Papa, que faites-vous ici?"

Sebastien's face took on the long suffering look familiar to fathers of daughters everywhere. "Fleur, your letters home have been different – you mention a young man but do not mention his name – yet your letters are full of news about what you are doing together. Of course, I would have to check it out."

"Papa, I am no longer a child. I am 23 years old," the French witch huffed.

"But you are still and will always be my daughter," Sebastien replied. "It is the right of fathers to check out potential young men who are interested in their daughters – whether they are 15 or 40."

"And how did you find me?"

"Fleur, Fleur – I am a former Auror. I have had training as an investigator and I know how to track. It took me a couple of days, but – voila – here you are."

"Yet you got caught by Harry's mom. Good thing she's a detective herself," Fleur said with a smug smile.

Sebastien turned his gaze to Diana, giving her a shrewd and complete appraisal for the first time. "You used more than just normal police skills did you not, madame?"

Fleur realized she had not yet introduced Diana to her father. She corrected that oversight and then watched as Diana described her method of locating Sebastien.

"If I didn't know better, I would say that you have some magic blood in you, Madame," the former French Auror said in genuine respect. Diana found herself blushing at his praise, even if she was secretly proud of her efforts with him.

"Fleur has been trying to tell me the same thing," she said with a smile. "I just try to tell her that it is only police intuition at work."

Sebastien only smiled back at the tall woman with the auburn hair. A true professional, he thought to himself. Now, however, he needed to get to the bottom of what was going on with his daughter.

"Madame Wells, while I appreciate the skill by which you caught me, I am really here to find out what Fleur is doing here and what her relationship is with your son if I understood her comments earlier," he began.

Fleur's face had reddened as Sebastien spoke, but she squared her shoulders away and stood her ground. "I will be glad to tell you, Papa, but you must give me and Diana a wizard's oath that you will keep the secret of what you learn here today."

Sebastien visibly started at Fleur's words. "Wizard's oath? That is strong language, ma fille. Is what is going on here that dangerous?"

Diana spoke for the French witch. "Sebastien, it is. There is more here than meets the eye and many lives, including your daughter and my son, depend on keeping the secrets you would learn here today. I can assure you that we harbor no ill will against anyone nor are we involved in anything illegal. But we have uncovered some serious secrets and need your word that you will keep them as well."

Glancing at both Fleur and Diana, he noted the serious look on their faces and nodded a grudging acceptance. It took a few moments for him to give his oath and once the blue glow had died, both women had visibly relaxed. In fact, his daughter was now smiling at him, her earlier anger at his surprise now forgotten.

"Papa," she began, taking Sebastien's hand in her own, "The Americans have a story about Alice in Wonderland and how a young girl fell down a rabbit hole. I would like to welcome you to the rabbit hole."

As she was saying this, she was leading him to a drainage culvert followed by Diana and her two daughters.

"Rabbit hole indeed!" was Sebastien's only comment as the drainage culvert back opened and the tunnel behind was revealed. "En avant, ma fille! Allons-y."

* * *

**A/N: So? Questions? Comments? Concerns? Tell us in a review what if you have any of these. And of course, tell us if you see any errors of any kind, so we can fix them ASAP :)**

**Also, for those who do not know French, the closing remarks are "Onward, my daughter. Let's go!"**

**And with that, I bid you farewell till our next post :)**


	14. Chapter 13: Protective Father

**A/N: Hey guys! We've finished fixing up the next chapter, so here it is :) **

* * *

Chapter Fourteen: Protective Fathers/A Father's Protection

Despite the wizard's oath and the shock of being found out by Diana Bennett Wells, nothing could have prepared Sebastien Delacour for the wonders of the world Below. The glimpses of tunnels, the sound of clanging pipes, the almost Renaissance manner of dress among the few inhabitants they met and finally the sight of the spiral staircase and the great chasm – all combined to overwhelm his senses.

It was not that he was unfamiliar with the magical or unusual – he had seen many strange things in his previous career as an Auror for Magical France and his ongoing travels now on behalf of the Foreign Ministry of Magical France had exposed him to still more exotic and strange sights. But the proximity of the tunnel world to a bustling non-magical city such as New York with no magical portal to separate the two of them – that marked a first.

By now, the small group had reached the community's library and council chamber and Diana took a few moments to bang out a short message on the pipes. Seconds later, two younger teens stepped into the chamber and after Diana had spoken quietly with her two daughters, led Erin and Catherine away. Then she turned and indicated the council table in the corner of the chamber.

"I've asked Vincent and Father to join us in about half an hour," she told Fleur and Sebastien. "Harry is still at class with your goblin employers, Fleur, but he should be here in an hour. Why don't you try to begin laying the background for your father and I will back you up with any information that you need."

Fleur had been thinking about where to begin with her current story. She recognized the godsend her father's arrival presented to their current investigations, but how could she begin the tale – straight up with the important facts or telling a linear time line. Perhaps the important facts first….

"Papa, we've got a lot to tell you and I frankly don't know where to begin. The important points are as follows – my life was saved by Harry, a young man who turned out to be not only an undiscovered wizard, but a missing wizard who has been the center of one huge manhunt. He has also been the target of some powerful manipulations and dark spells.

"We are in his home now and his adoptive mother you have just met.

"Oh yes, I have _chosen _him, but I will have to share him with one other." This last she said in a low voice, hoping that he would miss that.

Sebastien's eyes went wide. "You've chosen him, but you must share him with one other? Expliquez!"

Zut, Fleur thought to herself. Papa would zero in on that. "Papa, Harry's sister is a Seer – she…."

Sebastien sat back heavily in the proffered chair while Diana couldn't help smiling at his poleaxed expression and she reached out, patting his arm in sympathy. "Don't worry – we've already overcome our shock – and yes, I think Fleur would make a wonderful addition to the family."

The former Head Auror swallowed and looked at his daughter sharply. "What is his full name and how can he resist the allure?"

"His name, Papa, is Harry Jacob Vincent Wells, the current Black of Black and the former Boy-Who-Lived," Fleur replied with pride in her voice. Then she smiled. "And he's never had a problem with my allure – Papa, he likes me for me."

It took a few seconds for Sebastien to digest Fleur's words. Black of Black – that sounded British although what he knew of the Black family was that it was dark. The Boy-Who-Lived – "Mon Dieu, Fleur, you mean Harry Potter?" Here in New York?"

Fleur's face took on a sad look. "He was Harry Potter – until Albus Dumbledore killed him. Do you understand now why we needed your oath?"

Mutely he nodded and then gave both Fleur and Diana a sharp look. "Tell me everything – from the beginning."

* * *

The only interruption to the next hour of Fleur's tale was the arrival of Father and Vincent. It was a measure of Sebastien's attention to the story that he took in Vincent's appearance with only a mild start – it was obvious to all that Fleur was an excellent story teller.

She was just getting to their investigation of the Potter and Black wills when Sebastien saw a tall, thin young man with a shock of black hair enter and fling his books on the table. Seeing Fleur and Diana, he angled over, giving his mother a kiss.

"I swear those goblins are…" It was at this point that he caught sight of Sebastien. "I'm sorry I didn't know I was interrupting something."

Before Fleur could make an introduction, Sebastien rose and extended his hand. "You must be Harry. I would say thank you for saving my daughter's life, but I am not sure I should be friendly with you right now. After all, you are the young man who has stolen my daughter's heart."

Harry's face had first turned red, then white as the implication of Sebastien's words sunk in. Father, Vincent, and Diana could barely restrain smiles as they watched the young man's reactions.

Sebastien's next words, however, took everyone by surprise. "However, I had the honor of knowing your birth parents, Mr. Wells, and I can report to you that you look much like your father, but that you have your mother's eyes."

Harry sat down, a look of shock on his face. This man was the first person he had met who had known both of his birth parents.

Sebastien sat down himself. "I will be happy to talk about your birth parents later, Mr. Wells. And of course we can talk later about your relationship with my daughter. However, let us return to the tale she was telling us when you arrived."

Fleur's face had gone red during her father's initial words to Harry, but his manner of speaking told her that he was more bluster than bite this time. She had also detected the hidden smiles of the others around the table and couldn't resist smiling herself. Papa must like what he had heard about Harry and was using this occasion to tease him a bit.

Clearing her throat, she returned to their investigations. When she had summarized the various steps taken, she turned to Diana.

"Sebastien, your daughter had suggested that we needed to contact someone who might give us insight into a few things. We determined that Dumbledore is a key figure in the events which have impacted my son's life – from the disregard for his birth parents' wills to the events of October 1994. We – that is Vincent and I – believe that this Dumbledore is doing this with a view to controlling Harry. But we don't know why he wanted to control him and whether or not Harry is still in danger from him – and from this Dark Lord back in Britain."

The former Auror's face had grown thoughtful as Diana was speaking. There were many issues here, he thought to himself. Obviously the existence of Harry, once Potter, now Wells, was the most important issue. However, there were other questions – the existence of this community, the presence of Vincent, the relationship between Fleur and Harry and Harry's training with the goblins – all these had to be considered and taken into account.

He knew now how he should proceed. He needed to give this group some of the background information he knew would fill in the missing pieces – and he needed to encourage them to get into contact with the American magical authorities. Or at least one specific American magical law enforcement officer – if Alexander Mackenzie was still in the business of law enforcement in this city. For Sebastien realized that this current situation could rapidly spin out of the ability of this small group to control events if either Dumbledore or Voldemort were made aware of Harry's existence before they had protections in place – he feared the consequences for this world, this family and Fleur.

Silence had fallen after Diana had finished speaking and Sebastien felt everyone's eyes turning to him. He was the unknown element for most of them, but he felt a burst of pride at his daughter – he knew now that Fleur had already been planning to involve him in this situation and it was a mark of her trust in him that he would even be considered to help. He hoped he would not disappoint.

Besides – the discovery that she had _chosen _the son of James and Lily Potter after he had saved her life – he would do anything for this young man. He liked what he saw of Harry and his family and he felt he owed an debt of friendship to his old friends. No, he would help Harry anyway he could.

"I am impressed," he began, looking around the table at each one. "I am impressed at what you have built here; I am impressed that you welcomed the son of my former colleagues and I am impressed at how much you were able to deduce on your own. I would have been pleased to work with you, Madame Diana, on my Auror team – you are a formidable investigator.

"I would like to give you information that would have been missing from your own investigation and then I would like to recommend some future steps. This is because you are in a dangerous position here – young Mr. Wells will be a person of interest to two of the three sides in Magical Britain's current civil war – Voldemort's side and Dumbledore's side.

"Allow me first to give you some background. I was Head Auror for Magical France in the closing days of Magical Britain's last civil war and the magical government of France was lending men and resources to the British to combat the first rise of Voldemort. I was leader of our French Aurors…"

Harry interrupted. "M. Delacour, what is an Auror?"

Sebastien chuckled at Harry's interruption. "Pardonnez-moi. I forget that not everyone is familiar with terms that I use every day. An Auror is a magical equivalent to a policeman and soldier in non-magical society – conflict between wizards is not as conflicts between non magicals are. We fight one another as soldiers and warriors did of old – face to face and within sword stroke. Spells are cast at one another using line of sight and one sees the enemies one kills. Does this answer your question?"

At their nod, he began with a much more in depth summary of the rise of Voldemort and the tactics, ideology and impact of the Death Eaters. "They are terrorists, but the British Magical Ministry appeared to lack the will to properly oppose them and indeed, it appeared that Voldemort was on his way to winning.

"James Potter and Sirius Black were two Aurors in the British Ministry and they had opposed Voldemort or his forces at least three times. That is how I made their acquaintance initially – we were in a joint action together and we had saved each other's lives at least once during the battle.

"It was sometime in June of 1981 that James appeared preoccupied and almost scared. He looked at me and Sirius and asked us what we would recommend doing if there was a prophecy concerning a child who could put an end to the Dark Lord and the Dark Lord knew about it. I was surprised at this statement – I had not heard of any prophecy and my first suggestion was to flee the country if he and his wife believed it or had good information that Voldemort believed it.

"I didn't hear anything further about that topic from James – in fact that was the last time I saw him. I heard later from Sirius that he, your mother and you had gone into hiding somewhere in Britain under a secrecy charm called a Fidelius – only the secret keeper could give the address out. Black only told me this once – but he also said that the original prophecy had been told to Albus Dumbledore.

"I do not know what the prophecy said. However, the whole issue of predicting the future is a bit spotty at best – prophecies, even if they are true ones, are vague and many people make the mistake of trying to interpret the prophecy and ensuring that their interpretation gets carried out.

"Albus Dumbledore is such a man. He has been the leader of the light for so long that he believes he is the best judge of what to do and how to do it – he calls his vision of what should happen 'the greater good' and he uses that phrase to justify his actions."

Sebastien took a sip of the tea that had been set down before him earlier and he allowed the tea to linger as he considered his next words.

"I did not nor do not know what the prophecy said, but it would appear to me that the following occurred. One – a prophecy was issued about a child who could defeat Voldemort. Two – two families took to hiding out and disappeared for some time – the Potters and the Longbottoms. Three – both families had boys born within a day of each other – Neville Longbottom on July 30 and you, Harry, on July 31. Four – your parents were killed by Voldemort and you were attacked on October 31, 1981. Five – Dumbledore took you from the scene, disregarded Sirius Black who had been appointed as your godfather and took you to your relatives. Six – Sirius Black is accused of betraying the Potters and is captured and sent to Azkaban without a trial. Seven – as you have pointed out, Dumbledore suddenly emerges as Harry's magical guardian and the will of James and Lily is 'sealed' to the Wizengamot.

"In my opinion, I believe that Albus Dumbledore believes that he is the only person who understands a prophecy that may or may not implicate you – and knowing Albus Dumbledore as I do, he would keep this information to himself, but he would engineer things so that he could control as much of the process of fulfillment of this prophecy as possible. He would believe that only he had the required wisdom and power to ensure that young Harry Potter would be guided and directed to achieve whatever the prophecy suggested must be done to see its fulfillment."

He was silent after making this last statement, allowing his words to be digested by Harry, his family and his daughter. When, after a few minutes, there were nods around the table, he continued.

"I would like to make some suggestions for you and your family, Harry. I make these suggestions because of what Fleur has indicated to me about your relationship, but as well because from little I have seen of your world, I believe this is a special place and would like to see it preserved and protected."

It was Vincent who interrupted Sebastien next. "Are we in danger, Mr. Delacour?"

"In my opinion, you face a number of challenges," he replied, looking at all the group around the table. "Some of these challenges involve the existence of magicals with non magicals; some of these challenges relate to how much of your own world you want to reveal to the larger magical community; and at least two challenges relate to how you will handle the eventual discovery of Harry by both Dumbledore and Voldemort.

"For remember this, Voldemort would want to kill Harry as he was one who got away and perhaps because he would fear this prophecy. And Dumbledore would want to reassert control over Harry to help him 'achieve his destiny' – all for the greater good of course."

It was Diana who spoke next. "What steps do you recommend, Sebastien?"

"One basic step, Madame Diana – you need to contact the American magical government and share this entire situation with a responsible official who can take steps to ease this community, Harry and your children into the larger magical community."

Grandfather Wells was the first to reply. "No! I forbid it – we have kept this world a secret for several years and to reveal it now would put many good lives at risk."

Sebastien could see that he needed to explain his idea. "I am not speaking of a blanket coming out party. I have a contact in American magical law enforcement – someone with whom I have worked several times and whose discretion I trust.

"Besides, do you not have connections already with people in authority in the world above? There is no other way for your world to function down here without it."

Diana blushed at his words and she nodded. "We have contacts in the District Attorney's office and other contacts among leading citizens of the city above. I myself am a police detective for the NYPD."

Sebastien nodded his approval. "With your approval, I would like to speak to my contact – one Alexander Mackenzie of the Magical FBI here in New York. He is a veteran investigator and…."

"Alex Mackenzie of the FBI?"

"He has worked with both magical and non-magical branches of that service, yes."

Diana looked somewhat relieved. "Vincent, Father, Harry – if it is the same Alex I know, he's a good head. I've worked with him on one or two cases – he's not one to get into a pissing match over jurisdiction. And he knows Joe too."

Vincent next spoke. "Diana, if you know this man, could I suggest that you meet him with Sebastien?"

Sebastien was already nodding his approval of the idea. "If he sees two people he knows, then it would speed up the contact and the ensuing discussions."

Diana thought for several seconds. "If what you say is true and if this is the same Alex Mackenzie that I know, perhaps you could make the initial contact, get him to swear that magical oath you and Fleur swore and then I can make a point to see him as well. I suspect that you have a much more recent working relationship than I do – I haven't worked with him since 1993 on a kidnapping case.

"There is wisdom in your approach, Madame Diana. I will make the first contact and, depending on his response, I will arrange a subsequent meeting for you with him and me," Sebastien replied.

The meeting closed with Sebastien agreeing to meet Alex within the next few days.

* * *

Another boring afternoon – the late rays of the sun highlighted the slow dance of dust motes and Alexander Mackenzie, Special Agent in New York for the Magical FBI, could feel his brain cells dying. It had to be a function of his eyelids growing heavy and he wondered anew why he had agreed to serve this stint in the office. Never mind that it was his turn- here in the Magical Mall, nothing was happening in the regional offices of the Magical US government.

Thus the sharp knock on the door came as both a surprise and a welcome relief. So too the familiar voice.

"One of those days, Alex? Bored again?"

It took Alex a few seconds to fire up his brain cells. The hint of a French accent helped him make the connections quickly. It could only be….

"Sebastien? Here? What brings you to my fair city? Tell me that you are here to rescue me from these dust motes?"

The former French Auror smiled back at his old friend. But he also had a mission to accomplish. "Well, Alex, I would like to sit back and drink up some old memories, but I need your help. I've encountered a unique situation right here in New York."

Excitement came alive in Alex's mind. Bye bye ennui. Hello case. For Sebastien to say that something was unique, it had to be truly exciting, unusual, or both. Then he caught his guest's next words and alarm also awakened.

"But I need your magical oath before I give you the details."

Red flags now were flapping in the breeze of Alex's mind. Giving a magical oath was not an everyday occurrence between law officials – especially officials that had literally shed blood for one another on earlier cases and who both shared a common commitment to the rule of law.

"A magical oath? Why?" he asked in a much more neutral tone.

Sebastien smiled internally. He had guessed Alex's possible reaction correctly and while normally, he would have waived the oath requirement, he knew how many lives depended on these secrets being kept. Now how could he convince his former colleague of the oath's necessity?

"Alex, do you trust me?"

The MFBI agent nodded.

"The request for the oath is not from me, but from those who told me the story and updated me on the situation. And if it is any consolation, I need to give the oath as well.

"Oh, and one other fact – the situation involves my daughter, Fleur, among others."

The tall dark haired agent looked at Sebastien carefully for several seconds, but his old friend only radiated calm and acceptance – plus a slight smirk.

"Does this situation threaten the United States – magical or non-magical?"

"No – although if you don't learn about it, it could."

Silence again descended. "Are any other lives threatened or is anything illegal being contemplated?"

"No – but again – if you do nothing, lives could be threatened."

Once more silence. Alex was thinking quickly – he trusted his instincts normally – and his instincts were telling him that Sebastien was sitting on something big, but not threatening immediately – unless he did nothing about it. As to why Sebastien had approached him, he was certain it was because his old friend trusted and respected him on his approach to major issues.

Making a sudden decision, he raised his hand and after uttering a few words, a blue glow flashed and in the light of that flash he could see Sebastien's face relax almost imperceptibly. Bingo – it had been the right choice.

"Okay, Sebastien, your move. Spill the beans!" At Sebastien's raised eyebrow, he clarified. "Start talking."

"May I suggest that you put up some wards first, Alex. What I am going to share is very sensitive information. I would have set up the wards myself, but this is your office, not mine."

Pleased at Sebastien's courtesy, the agent made several sharp gestures with his wand and he felt the wards go up. "Those are the strongest wards I've got, Sebastien. Now talk."

The French ex-Auror looked at his hands for a moment, then at Alex. "What I have to tell you is a story that began with my daughter last April in this city. She was saved from becoming a traffic statistic by a man who only discovered after he had saved her life that he was a wizard. And by the time Fleur had finished talking with this young man, she had discovered the answer to one of magic's biggest mysteries of the past decade as well as encountering a new budding Seer – all in one day.

Sebastien's statements started Alex's thoughts spinning. Fleur saved, by a hitherto undiscovered wizard and the discovery of a new Seer – all here in New York. How had he missed all these events? How could a wizard escape detection for so long? And what had Sebastien said earlier – if he did nothing about it, it could threaten his city? "Well, old friend, that's a lot in those few sentences. You want to start it from the beginning?"

So he did.

Headache mixed with excitement – Merlin, he needed a drink as he listened to Sebastien moving his account to the present. Harry Potter here in New York City, yet dead since 1994; Harry Potter, no Wells, training with the goblins rather than wizards; Harry in a relationship with Fleur Delacour, yet immune to her allure; his adoptive sister a budding young Seer and most likely a witch as well – and the entire Wells family living with others underground. It was almost too much to believe, yet Alex knew that there had been rumors of something living below the city – the numerous requests for investigations from the office of Magical Misuse in Salem had confirmed that.

It was the manner of Sebastien's delivery that convinced him this was no prank from his old friend. The former Auror was telling the story with hints of personal testimony – he must have verified some of the details himself.

The agent was suddenly aware of the silence and realized that Sebastien had finished talking and was now looking at him. Aware of his gaze on him, his old friend smiled. "Alex, normally you are a difficult man to read. But it was fascinating watching your face as you listened to the story. At first disbelief, then excitement, then more disbelief and then, if I may say so, acceptance.

"Est-ce que tu as confiance en moi? M'excuse – do you trust me?"

"I understood you the first time, Sebastien. Yes, I trust you. In fact, I believe you. Your manner of delivery tells me that you checked out aspects of this story yourself."

"Oui, I met the young man and his family two days ago – and I cannot even begin to tell you what I felt like as I met him. It was like one of those early conte des fees – fairy tales you say in English. The best thing for you is to meet Harry and his family for yourself."

Alex was nodding his head even as he reached behind him and pulled out a pen and pad. "Okay, let's summarize the facts of this situation as you presented them to me. Fact – Harry Potter found himself in New York City since the age of 9. Fact – he was taken in and adopted by a family who live underneath the city. Fact – he had no idea he was a wizard until he saved your daughter Fleur. Fact – he died due to some magical summoning spell, most likely the blood ritual initiated by Dumbledore in 1994 – and this has been confirmed by Gringotts who said he is dead to the Potter heritage, but has inherited the mantle of Lord Black as well as having started a new house. Fact – Harry's youngest sister is a budding Seer, most likely a witch, but is only six. Do I have these facts right so far?"

Sebastien nodded and then hit himself dramatically with his hand. "Zut! J'ai completement oublie – Harry's adoptive mother thinks she might know you."

"Who is she?" Alex asked with growing curiosity.

"A detective with the NYPD – Diana Bennett."

Shock appeared on Alex's face. Bennett – one of the most unusual and gifted investigators and profilers he had ever met – there had even been discussion at high levels at the FBI of recruiting her for his agency in recognition of her skills. He had worked with her on a number of cases, beginning with the Gabriel/Chandler case and the last one only being two years before. He then smiled at Sebastien.

"Let me guess – tall, auburn hair, thin, big soulful eyes that somehow see right through you and one of the most unusual minds you'll ever meet?"

"Sounds like Madame Diana. She is a gifted woman – did you know she caught me under a disillusionment spell in Central Park as I waiting to catch Fleur," Sebastien replied, respect clearly evident in his tone.

"She caught you? She's a legend with the NYPD – they call her the Ouija board master when she's not listening. However, she's a professional through and through – she makes intuitive leaps in cases that I couldn't follow, but always found the evidence to back it up. I've worked with her on a number of cases. She's Harry's mother?"

"And mother of Erin, the young Seer and witch. But his father is also 'unusual' – unfortunately you will have to meet him to understand. Just take one word of advice from me – go in with an open mind."

Alex filed that word of advice away and returned to the conversation. "Well, if I remember Bennett well, she's pretty thick with the Manhattan District Attorney, Joe Maxwell."

"I did hear that name – Harry referred to him as his Uncle Joe. I believe he sponsored Harry for U S citizenship when he was 13."

So Harry was an American citizen. He would have to confirm that – but he had heard enough. Now he wanted to hear from Sebastien why he had come forward to talk with him today.

"Sebastien, you came to see me with a purpose in mind. Why and what are you asking me to do?"

The former Auror smiled ruefully. "I am here after seeking the permission of Harry and his family to approach you, on my advice to them. They were reluctant, but they do not know the possible implications of this situation as I do and as I suspect you might.

"I would like to first share the discoveries that Harry, Fleur, and most of all, Madame Diana made on their own about Harry's life, placement and the manipulations of an old bearded fool. Then I would like to make some suggestions."

"I'm listening." And so Alex did listen as Sebastien shared about the discovery of the wills, the lack of trial for Sirius, the placement and the abuse of Harry at the hands of his relatives and the events leading up and including Halloween 1994. As he spoke, Alex could feel the rightness of Diana's conclusions and despite the strangeness of the story, he believed both Diana's and Sebastien's conclusions.

"So you suspect Dumbledore had been manipulating Harry's life until he decided to escape to New York." Alex asked.

"Actually Madame Diana concluded that. She just did not know what the goal of Dumbledore's manipulation was."

"And you have some ideas of your own?"

"Yes, I do. You know Dumbledore's reputation as an information hoarder and how he wants to be seen as the wizard of the Light? What if he heard a prophecy about the possible end of the Dark Lord?"

Alex could see where Sebastien was going. "Of course, knowing him as well as both of us do, he would conclude that only he could properly interpret and understand the prophecy; then he would conclude that only he could be trusted to help fulfill the prophecy and he would do everything possible to see that the prophecy would be fulfilled the way he saw it should happen. All for the 'greater good' of course."

Sebastien's face had taken on a serious mien. "I am convinced, and I told the Wells family this two nights ago, that it is only a matter of time before the news of Harry Wells's emergence leaks out to someone in the magical world. If we do not take steps I am afraid that one or both of the two wizards who have taken an unhealthy interest in one Harry James Potter in the past would come here looking for him – and that could have potential negative consequences for the inhabitants of this city, Harry's own family – and my daughter as well.

"Thus I told Harry and his family that he needed to contact someone from the Magical U S government and voila, I was asked to make the first contact."

Alex could now fully understand Sebastien's reasoning and he could not fault it at all. In fact, the Frenchman's logic was sound and Alex was afraid that the possible future laid out could come to pass if they did not control the situation and eventually issue a controlled release of information.

"I need to meet Harry, Diana and their family," he said, a possible strategy already forming in his mind. "But three things must be done as quickly as possible. First of all, Harry must make a public reaffirmation of his U S citizenship."

"Is he not an American citizen now?" Sebastien was clearly confused.

"Think of how our old goat of a Supreme Mugwump works. He hides behind certain platitudes even while he disregards the laws. It would not surprise me that Dumbledore would argue that Harry making a declaration of U S citizenship at the age of 13 is null and void as no minor in Britain can probably make that choice – at least in the mind of Albus Dumbledore. After all, according to your and Bennett's conclusions, he appointed himself as Harry's magical guardian and he could argue that his choice of U S citizenship was made without his approval. Making a new affirmation now that he is an adult would remove that legal argument.

"Secondly, he needs to continue with his magical training – enough to at least write his OWLs as soon as possible. The British have an idea that a person is not an adult in the magical world if either they are not 17 or they have not yet completed their OWLs. It would not surprise me that Dumbledore would try that argument as well – after all, the key for him is to find some way to bring Harry back under his control and if he has not yet completed his OWLs, then he will try to argue that Harry needs to be guided into the magical world – and of course, what better place than Hogwarts."

Sebastien was nodding his head sadly, but understanding well. This was exactly what he was hoping for in contacting Alex – clear guidelines and advice on how to protect Harry, and by extension, his family, his community and his intended – from the manipulations of an old self-deluded wizard.

"Thirdly, I am making a tentative decision to place this 'World Below' under the heading of a hybrid community – a heading which allows magicals and mundanes to associate together without everyone in worrying about betraying the Statute of Secrecy. This is a temporary binder only – I need to visit the community, get their agreement and see how they work.

"Can you arrange a meeting with them as soon as possible?"

Sebastien now gave Alex a broad smile. "Mais oui, mon ami. Everything has already been made ready on the possibility that things would work out." Then he looked carefully at the business suit his old friend was wearing. "However, seeing as we are going underground, I might suggest that you dress a bit more casual and wear some hiking boots."

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter will be the answer to many of your requests as a certain bushy haired which connects with her old friend after having a collision with a raven haired student in of all places – the CUNY library.**

**Where else for a bookworm?**

**As well, we hope you understand that in this fanfiction, not all adult wizards and not all wizarding governments worship the ground that Dumbledore walks on or would wink at blatant disregard for wizarding or non-magical law. As this story is centered in New York, we would have to involve the American government sooner or later.**


	15. Chapter 14: Bookworms in the Library

**A/N: Hey Guys! Sorry on how late this is! I've been having computer problems recently :P  
But anyways! The long expected meeting is here! Enjoy and give us feedback :)**

* * *

Chapter Fifteen: Bookworms in the Library

Eleven at night and the study carrels were still full as Harry went for the third time that evening to the stacks on Entrepreneurship. This last paper by Professor Blasko was a monster: he had already reviewed twenty books and an innumerable quantity of articles.

He still didn't know how he was managing to keep all the aspects of his dual worlds together. Between classes in his junior year at CUNY, training with the goblins in Gringotts, evenings with Fleur and now planning sessions with Special Agent Alex Mackenzie of the Magical FBI, he barely had any time to breathe. Of course, Blasko wasn't helping things out.

He was clutching the latest books for his research as he rounded the end of one aisle when, trying to keep one large book from slipping off the stack, he didn't notice the young woman coming around the end from the next aisle.

BANG!

The stack of books was now on the floor mingled with books on psychology and the human mind.

Looking up at the person he had collided with, he noticed two things. The first was the image of a young woman with hair threatening to explode from its ponytail and the second was the not so familiar buzz.

This woman was a witch.

"Are you alright?" he said in an apologetic tone. "I am so sorry, but my top book was trying to get away from me and I didn't see where I was going."

The woman smiled at his obvious attempt to extricate himself from the embarrassing situation. "No harm done," she said in a voice thick with an accent he had not heard in a long time: the accent of someone from near London.

"I insist that as I made you drop all of these interesting books that I at least help you to pick them up," Harry was now turning on what Fleur called his 'killer' charm.

The woman pursed her lips and then nodded, warmth showing in her chocolate brown eyes.

Together both students bent down and collected their books. Then Harry, deciding to take the bull by the horns, looked appraisingly at the young woman in front of him.

"Allow me to introduce myself," he began. "When I am not being a traffic hazard in libraries, I am a third year student here at CUNY in business. Oh, and by the way, I'm Harry Wells," saying this last line with a flourish.

The young woman couldn't help but smile at this last line and gesture and Harry was struck by how attractive she was.

"I'm Hermione Granger, studying fourth year PreMed."

Something about that name tickled Harry's memory, but he had learned not to strain at what it might be. Instead, he would let his charm continue to shine. "So you're a New York girl with a British accent?"

Hermione smiled both at the comment and the disarming way it had been said. That and Harry's green eyes really caught her attention. This Harry Wells was a real charmer. "Well, if I might be so bold, you seem to have a bit of London accent of your own."

Harry's smile broadened and his accent deepened. "Jolly good observation. Yes, I am a New Yorker as well with a British accent." Then his face became more serious. "Forgive me for being forward, but I would like to ask you a personal question."

Concerned about the sudden change in the conversation and curious as to where Harry was going with this, she nodded.

He looked around them carefully before lowering his voice. "Are you a witch?"

Her eyes went wide and she instinctively felt for her wand. Then she looked at Harry with a much colder expression. "Care to explain why you would ask me that?"

"Because I can see magic and you are brimming with it. Because I only recently discovered that I am a wizard. But could we continue this conversation elsewhere?"

Hermione could only nod her head as her quick intelligence began digesting Harry's comments. He could see magic: obviously he was a wizard. But seeing someone's magic was a rare gift that only the most powerful wizards or witches could use. And he only recently discovered he was a wizard. That was extremely rare. He should have been discovered much earlier than this.

Her racing thoughts calmed as they reached a private study carrel where a pile of books were already laid out. "Forgive the mess, but I was working on a late night paper," Harry began. Then lowering his voice, he asked. "Do you know any privacy charms? I only got my wand a month ago and I am still learning how to work the basic spells with it. Plus mine tend to be a bit overpowered."

Confirmation there of power, but his comment also raised more questions. She nodded her assent, however, and with a few subtle gestures and words, the wards were set.

She put her wand back into its invisible holster only to notice Harry looking at her with an expression akin to awe. "Very nice," he said. "Crisp, tight motions and your magic just seemed to float to your wand."

Hermione blushed under what was obviously a sincere compliment. She was aware that her control over her magic was exceptional – her professors at Beauxbatons and Great Lakes Magical had commented on that over the years. But her fellow students were sparing in their compliments – in part, she knew, due to her reluctance to reach out of her own world after her first two years at Hogwarts.

Still, this young man had a winning personality and his unique blend of British accent with American accent and idioms suggested an interesting story to tell.

She indicated a chair and sat back down at the study carrel, prepared for a longer chat over magic and the mystery that was this young man. However, he remained standing as he glanced at a paper on the top of her stack of books.

"You're trying to get in contact with Dr. Peter Alcott," Harry said, indicating Hermione's neatly written list of potential sponsors.

"How did you know that?" Then she quieted as she followed his gaze and blushed slightly. "Yes, I am working on making contacts with present and past medical leaders in New York City for any advice and words of wisdom for applying to Columbia Medical School. My marks are high enough, but I've discovered in a competitive environment like Columbia, every little contact can help."

A broad smile spread across Harry's face. "Let me guess – you're thinking of pediatrics, right?"

She nodded, her curiosity further piqued by his obvious knowledge that Dr. Alcott worked in pediatrics.

"This is truly your lucky day, Miss Granger. Dr. Peter is a close friend of my family and I could arrange a meeting between you and he very quickly."

Her heart stopped for a brief second – he must be pulling her leg. The fear of the ever present bully full of negative comments on her intelligence and her bookishness briefly surfaced. But why would he do this to her? She swallowed her fear and put a smile on her face.

"You're kidding, aren't you?"

Harry's face remained pleasant and friendly. There was no hint of playing a prank at all. "No, Miss Granger, I'm not. Dr. Peter is my personal doctor and has stitched me up more times than I know."

Then the name clicked – Hermione Granger, friend of Fleur from Beauxbatons. It had to be the same person.

He could sense the struggle in Hermione's eyes as the hope of meeting Dr. Alcott warred with her fear of being pranked. It was time to put her mind at ease and perhaps confirm if Hermione was Fleur's Hermione.

"Miss Granger, it would be my pleasure to arrange for a meeting. But I've got to ask you a question first – do you know Fleur Delacour?"

Hermione's eyes went wide at the mention of the French witch and then the suspicious look returned to her eyes. "How do you know that name?"

"She's here working at Gringotts New York – and she is the witch who helped me find out that I was a wizard," Harry replied with a straight face. "In the months since I have had a few encounters with her and more recently her father Sebastien – and she keeps talking about this British witch Hermione Granger.

"And you will admit that Hermione is not a standard name." With this sentence, he looked again at her with his killer green eyes.

Thinking absently to herself that eyes like that should be banned, Hermione thought about this unexpected situation. The idea that Fleur was here in New York was a welcome idea – she had lost track of her old friend since she and her family had moved to the United States and she would welcome the opportunity to reconnect with her. But could she trust this young man?

Seeing the hesitation still in her eyes warring with the desire to touch base, Harry thought about what Fleur, his parents, Sebastien and Alex had only set up last week – cellphones. Despite the French magical reluctance to use electronics, Alex had advised them that breakthroughs has been made in the U S linking magic with electronic devices. Now was as good a time as any to try out the new devices.

"Why don't we call Fleur and find out if you are her long lost friend," Harry replied, pulling out his modified cellphone. As Hermione's eyes grew wide again, he hit one of the buttons on the phone and seconds later she heard the familiar voice of her old French friend.

"'Allo, Harry? Ca va?"

"Hello Fleur. I think I ran into one of your old friends from France. Would you like to talk to her?"

"Who is it?"

"Here she is – just talk with her yourself and find out."

"Harry…." was all that came next as Harry handed the phone to Hermione. "She sounds like she is whining now," he said to her with a smirk.

Hermione hesitantly picked up the phone and when it was near her mouth said the first thing that came to mind. "Fleur, ca va?"

There was silence on the other end and then Fleur's excited voice came over the receiver. "Hermione? Est-c'est toi?"

Hermione's face broke into a big smile as she began to chatter back into the phone in French. Harry could hear the excitement in Fleur's voice as the two began an excited conversation. Finally, after five minutes, Hermione hit the end button and handed the phone back to Harry.

"Well, Mr. Wells that was a pleasant surprise. I haven't touched base with Fleur for several years since moving to the U S for further magical and then non-magical studies. We are going to try to set up a rendez vous for next week – and she said I could trust you." The look of suspicion had left her face and Harry found himself entranced by the warmth now showing in her brown eyes and pleasant features. This girl was a looker in a sort of low key college girl way, he decided to himself and then mentally kicked himself. He was going out with Fleur and here he was thinking about this new girl as well.

He realized that he was feeling comfortable with Hermione and decided he would risk asking her about one of the questions that had been nagging at him since they had learned about Dumbledore, his manipulations and his obvious goal in using the blood summoning to force Harry to Hogwarts – what was the school like and why would Hermione have left that school to go to Beauxbatons. Fleur had been unclear as to all the reasons for Hermione's departure from the British school as her friend was remarkably closed lipped about her experience there.

Hermione at the same time was curious about how a powerful young wizard such as Harry Wells could have escaped detection from the magical authorities and her curiosity was a formidable force once it was aroused as anyone who knew could testify. Thus it was she who opened the questions first.

"Harry, I am curious – how did you escape detection as a magical child by the American authorities?" she began.

Harry smiled at the obvious spark of interest in the young woman. He could already tell that this was a person who projected an eagerness to learn as her eyes were alight with curiosity and interest.

"Perhaps because I was no longer living in the country of my birth," he countered. "I came to the U S when I was nine and I am assuming that if I was on any register of magical children, that register would have been back in Britain."

Something was beginning to nag at the back of Hermione's mind, but she shoved it back into a corner as she continued to pursue her train of thought. "Didn't you have any incidents of accidental magic?"

Harry's face grew pensive. "Fleur asked me the same thing as she told me about how magical children go to some form of magical training when they turn eleven. I do recall doing some magical acts, at least what I would call magical acts today. But I told her that I guess my location perhaps aided me in avoiding detection as I was in locations that were surrounded by brick, steel, dirt and asphalt. Her father Sebastien thinks that I may have a point there – there was one major outburst that was witnessed by several people including my adoptive mom but no representatives of the US magical government ever came. He suspects that magic acts like radio or electric energy – just as you can't get a cellphone signal in a reinforced concrete building, so too perhaps magic cannot be detected easily in cities."

It was Hermione's turn to grow thoughtful and Harry found himself staring at her as she worried her lower lip as she was concentrating. He found it strangely attractive even as she replied, "I think you may have a point there. Perhaps the concrete and steel buildings act as a diffusor of magical energy so that the normal magical sensors wouldn't know where the magical surge was coming from.

"Only here in the US have people actually begun studying how magic and the current electronic and electrical culture that the non-magical world live in impact on each other."

Sensing that Hermione had had her question answered for the moment, Harry now tried his. "Miss Granger, I realize that had I stayed in Britain, I might have received an invitation to Hogwarts. While I have no desire to return to the UK, I have wondered, since Fleur told me about her year there as part of the TriWizard Tournament, what the school is like."

Harry was stunned to see the quick movement of emotions that danced across Hermione's face. He had obviously touched on a point of some sensitivity for her and he began to regret asking the question. He was just going to ask her to forget he had said anything when she interrupted.

"Hogwarts – a word that fills me with excitement, longing, fear, disgust, amazement and regret. I both wish I had never gone there and am glad that I did go there for three years even if the last year was as a transfer student from Beauxbatons.

"I remember the thrill I had when Professor McGonagall came to my home and showed magic to me and my parents. I remember the first friend I made – a Neville Longbottom on the Hogwarts Express. I remember the thrill and wonder I experienced when I rode in the boats with the other first years and saw the lights of Hogwarts Castle for the first time.

"I remember the nervousness I felt when I walked up to the Sorting Hat and put it on, telling the Hat that I wanted to be in the same house as Harry Potter who had lost his family and yet had gone on to face dangers in helping others.

"Of course, I also remember the disappointment we all felt when we found out that Harry Potter wasn't even coming to Hogwarts.

"I remember the thrill of my first lessons in magic. But I also remember meeting British pureblood bigotry for the first time and learning that the wizarding world was more discriminatory than my old non magical world was."

It was obvious to Harry that Hermione was lost in remembering and he sat back and allowed her to continue.

"I remember being told I was a know-it-all and being threatened that my command of magic was wrong – that I was cheating by beating pureblood students.

"I remember the stories which began appearing and suggesting that the boy whom I had held up as a model of a hero, the Boy-Who-Lived, may have died in a non-magical home far from the fairy tale home and existence I had read about him.

"I remember coming home after my first year feeling disappointed and disillusioned, frightened and even terrified. Strange things had gone on that year – a teacher had died mysteriously, Potter hadn't shown up, a hut had burned and I had been encouraged not to return by some pretty nasty witches and wizards.

"I remember my second year – the rumors of a monster on the loose, growing discrimination against people like myself by purebloods, dead roosters and students who had been petrified."

Here Hermione's face took on a bitter expression. "And it was here that I was petrified and nearly killed myself – and no one, not one student or professor, tried to help me, encourage me or understand my fears.

"Instead I was told that I was petrified because I deserved it – that I was a mudblood and that it would have been better for me if I had died because I had stolen my magic from somebody else.

"So I left that school and wished I would never see it again – and then was sent back to help the Beauxbatons students find their way around Hogwarts.

"And so I ended up at the bottom of a cold lake in February after watching one of the darkest rituals I have ever seen performed by the Headmaster of that school – all to find a missing student, Harry Potter."

Her eyes had grown hard by this point and Harry found himself reaching across the space between them and patting her arm in a comforting gesture.

Hermione visibly caught herself and fought back the emotions which were threatening to overflow their bounds. "Unless you were a pureblood, Harry, Hogwarts would not have been a welcoming school for you to learn magic. I loved the castle and some of my teachers, but I grew to hate the bigotry, the lack of protection for first generation magical students, some of the obviously biased professors and the lack of consideration given to student protection.

"I was put at the bottom of the lake as a hostage for one of the TriWizard Champions without me or my parents' permission – all because I had gone out with the champion to the Yule Ball.

"No, Harry, you didn't miss anything."

Harry could see how difficult the conversation had been for Hermione, but he knew he needed some clarification on the terms she had used – pureblood, half blood, mudblood. Perhaps if he allowed the conversation to touch on other topics, he could get some clarification a bit later.

"Well, based on what you described I would have to agree with you. It makes my childhood and the move here to New York tame by comparison," he said.

Hermione's look of curiosity had returned at his cryptic comment and he realized that he had gone down a path he had wanted to avoid for now.

"Your move here to New York? How did you arrive here?" she asked.

How would he answer this, he wondered. He wanted to keep the unusual circumstances of his 'transport' to New York from any story for now because it could lead eventually to her questioning where he had come from in the first place and it was not yet something he was comfortable with sharing with others who were not privy to the secrets of the world below and of his life story.

Perhaps give as much of the truth as possible, he decided and just leave out certain elements that were unusual.

Hermione in turn noticed his hesitation and wondered if there were elements of his background that were too painful for him to talk about. His next words confirmed her thoughts.

"I'm an orphan who grew up with relatives who had a real dislike for me and my parents. I found myself in New York, lost and alone, after an event that promised more pain for me from my relatives. A group of strangers found me, noticed that I was suffering from abuse, took me in and reported the abuse to the authorities. One family from that group of strangers took a real interest in me and welcomed me into their home and hearts.

"They adopted me a couple of years later and I became an American citizen." The pride of that declaration rang in his voice and Hermione could see that while he may have been abused, the love and acceptance of his new family had gone a long way to healing the wounds of his earlier years.

"How old were you when you came here?"

"Nine years old – almost ten. I'm a summer baby."

Hermione worried her lower lip in what was becoming for Harry an endearing gesture. Actually, she was driving him nuts with it. It was obvious that she was trying to fit the story in what she had already learned about him.

"Well, that would explain why you were not found out by magical authorities in Britain as you would no longer have been in the UK by the time you reached the age of eleven. And I never had thought about magical energy being like electrical or electronic energy – but it would make sense as normally non-magical devices burn out in places with heavy concentrations of magical energy. That would imply a conflict of similar energy types I suppose.

"But are you taking any steps to learning magic now?"

Harry smiled. "I have probably got the toughest group of magical teachers on the continent. Fleur set me up with the goblins at Gringotts – and from what I hear from her, they teach magic unlike anything that she has ever seen. As I mentioned, I only got my wand a short time ago – I was working with this Yoda like guy named Rockslade who had me meditating to find my magical core."

Hermione's eyes were dancing with excitement. "Goblins teaching wizards magic? I've never heard of that. I want a full description. What subjects do they cover? What homework do they give? Do they cover the same materials that you would need to know to write your OWLs and your NEWTs? How do you fit their courses in with your studies here at CUNY?"

Harry was smiling at the verbal avalanche. Hermione in pursuit of information was a force to be reckoned with. "Whoa, Whoa, Hermione. I can only answer one question at a time. Let me begin with how the training began."

Thus, for the next hour Hermione listened with avid fascination to Harry's description of the goblin training methods. She was mentally comparing their approach to the different approaches she had experienced in the three magical schools she had attended and found the goblin's focus on learning what magic was before beginning to learn spells a stark contrast to the European method of teaching magic. Her American experience fell between the European schools and Harry's goblin teachers.

Harry wanted to get back to Hermione's story about Hogwarts and finally felt it was safe to bring up the questions he wanted to ask. "Hermione, in your earlier story about Hogwarts, you used terms that I have never heard before – pureblood, half blood and mudblood. Unfortunately, I lack any frame of reference for those words. Could you explain them to me?"

Hermione launched into a brief description of the political divisions of Britain's magical society and by the time she was done, he not only had a much clearer picture of what the words meant, but also had a clear picture of the disdain and hatred Hermione had for British magical society.

"They are so out of it, Harry," she said with venom. "The purebloods are the ones supporting the Dark Lord now, yet they are so magically inept and weak because many of them are inbred and have weakened the magical genes. As well, in my course on world magical politics at Great Lakes Magical Institute, we discussed the possibility that many first generation magicals in Britain are only the resurfacing of magical lines lost due to squibs being born to pureblood families."

"Squibs?"

"Oh, the term the British uses to describe people who are born to magical parents, but have little or no magic themselves."

"Yeah, we call them latents here." Harry replied.

"Well, in my course, we learned that studies appear to confirm that if purebloods intermarry without bringing new blood from outside, the magical strength appears to weaken and is only restored when outsiders are brought into the family lines. Someone in my class actually did a research project which suggested that Albus Dumbledore, the Chief Warlock of the British Wizengamot, has actually been encouraging this practice, although he only encourages first generation magicals to be second wives and such so as to keep purebloods in political power."

Aha, Harry thought to himself. Now he could ask about Dumbledore. "Hermione, you studied at Hogwarts under Dumbledore. What was he like?"

A new chewing of her bottom lip followed as she reflected on Harry's question. What could she say about him? His lack of interference with the bullying, the comments, the putdowns of muggleborns – all showed his administration of the school as a sharp contrast to Madame Maxime's direction of Beauxbatons or Joanne Murray's administration of Great Lakes. And the legal change which had almost forced her to return to Hogwarts for her fifth year and the lack of care and concern about her second year had also left a bad taste in her mouth.

"I consider him a poor Headmaster in that he appears to have a laissez faire approach to administration – he allowed bullies from one school house to torment other students and houses; he allowed an incompetent teacher to teach a core subject and favor his house over every other student house; he allowed a ghost to teach History in the most boring manner possible and excluding other key issues and topics.

"He allowed a monster to roam free over the entire school and petrify students in my second year – including me. It was a wonder that no students were killed and even then the details were hushed up. He should have closed the school when the first petrification occurred.

"Then, when my parents advised me that they were going to pull me out of Hogwarts, Dumbledore almost went ballistic, threatening my parents that they would need to keep me at Hogwarts because I had started there. My parents insisted on their choice and Dumbledore backed down.

"We learned two years later that Dumbledore was the spearhead behind passing a new law requiring all British born students to attend only British magical schools. By the time we had heard of this, we had already moved to the U S.

"So, no, I found Dumbledore a poor Headmaster and someone who should not have been allowed to run a school, let alone a magical school."

While Harry was pondering Hermione's comments, a presence interrupted their conversation. Looking up, both saw a library official.

"I hate to disturb your conversation, but we will be closing shortly," the young woman said.

Hermione looked at her watch and her eyes widened in shock. "It's nearly 12:55. Harry, we've been talking for a few hours and we must have lost track of time."

Harry smiled at the young woman and then patted Hermione's arm. "Tell you what –let's call it a night and perhaps we can arrange a time next week when you get together with Fleur to also make that meeting with Dr. Alcott."

The warmth in Hermione's eyes were all the reward Harry needed and he vowed to make a family dinner with Peter Alcott, Fleur, and the rest of the world below possible for Hermione. Now he would try to meet her again and get a wizarding oath and then – voila, he could do a big favor for her.

And then Hermione Granger would owe him.

ow wouHHH


	16. Chapter 15: Doctors and Anchors

**A/N: Hey guys! So, i have little to say today except...Potato.**

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Chapter Sixteen: Doctors and Anchors

For both Hermione and Harry, the following week proved the old adage that once you learned about something, you wondered how you had missed it all the other times before. While there were many students at CUNY and the chances of both of them running into each other would normally be limited, once they had made their initial contact, not a day passed without one seeing the other either in the hallway, in the student commons or in the library. While their schedules were different and they were in different programs, it somehow seemed providential that they were now catching glimpses of one another.

Or perhaps one could say it was magic.

For Hermione, she felt a spark of interest in the raven haired young man with the emerald green eyes, both in his personality and in the story of how he had been discovered as a wizard. Her curiosity had been awakened not only by the frank and open discussion they had enjoyed in the library but by the questions Harry had asked regarding Hogwarts and Dumbledore. She asked herself continually how a young wizard with the obvious power Harry possessed had escaped wizarding government notice.

But the chance to reconnect with her old friend Fleur was first and foremost in her thoughts now and she made sure that she would not miss the Tuesday meeting with her old friend. She still wondered how Harry was going to arrange his promised meeting with Dr. Peter Alcott, but that could come about after her coffee date with Fleur.

However, it was not far from Harry's mind. The initial meeting with Hermione had birthed in him a desire to see her connect with Peter and perhaps his grandfather as well – and he was happy to see Fleur connect with one of her old friends. Plus, he had to admit to himself, there was something about Hermione that appealed to him.

So, it was after a lot of thought that he asked if Fleur could invite Hermione to the world below after her coffee date. Fleur initially had expressed some surprise, but when Harry had shared with her that Hermione had an interest in meeting Dr. Alcott to further her studies, she agreed a meeting with Dr. Alcott and the rest of Harry's family might be in order.

"You need to ask her to give the same vow that we asked of you," Harry had asked her during their planning meeting regarding the dinner.

"Do you need my father there? He has gone back to France for a short time – he is thinking of bringing Maman and Gabrielle back with him this time," Fleur replied.

"No, I am thinking of inviting Special Agent Mackenzie after supper because Hermione had some good insight into Dumbledore and Britain that neither you nor your father had.

"Besides, I'm trying to keep this as a small gathering – just Mom, Dad, the family, you, Grandpa and Peter."

Fleur looked at Harry carefully for several seconds. "You like her, don't you?"

Harry now blushed under her scrutiny. "I keep thinking about Erin's comments about you and one other and while I didn't really believe anything she said at first, I found that you've kind of grown on me. So, if Erin was right with one person, perhaps she is right with the other – and from the moment I met Hermione, I felt comfortable with her – almost as well as I began to feel with you." His face was reddening even as he was speaking and Fleur found it rather cute.

She decided to play out the scenario a little further to see how far she could push Harry. He looked so embarrassed right now.

Leaning closer to him, enough that she was invading his personal space; her face took on a mock serious expression. "So what you are telling me, Harry, is that I am not enough of a woman for you?" She reached across the distance between them and placed a well-manicured finger directly against his sweater. "And I – a Veela who would be desired by any man in the world?"

Harry swallowed, hard, a number of times. "If…..if….Erin had not mentioned about ….another…."

Fleur could not help giggling. "Oh, Harry – you are so cute when you are trying to talk your way out of a difficult spot. I know what you are trying to say – and yes, I too have been thinking about Erin's words the first day we met. I have been examining the occasional young lady that crosses your path to see if she could be the missing 'one' – and I will admit that if Hermione is the 'one' I could live with that.  
"She became one of my few friends at Beauxbatons – it was possibly because we were both outsiders at the school. She was an outsider because she came from Britain and only appeared in her third year; I because many of my fellow classmates did not trust me around themselves or their boyfriends as if I wanted to steal mindless men for myself. The two years she spent with me I counted among the happiest I ever had at my French magical school.

"No, Harry, Hermione is a good friend and I am not surprised that you would feel comfortable with her as well.

"I will ask her to give her vow in order to keep our secrets safe. But be prepared – once her curiosity is aroused, it is an unstoppable force."

The afternoon light was shining in the windows of the café when Hermione entered, her eyes scanning back and forth for the familiar sight of her friend. There appeared to be no sign of Fleur and she experienced a slight twinge of disappointment before she heard a familiar voice behind her.

"'ermione, you came first. Have you not yet learned the first rule of being a woman – and a witch? Always be the last to arrive and make others wait for you?"

The bushy haired brunette turned and embraced her friend, the years melting away as she took in the familiar silver hair, the tantalizing perfume and the blue eyes. It was only when she stepped back to give Fleur a look over that she noticed a difference in her dress.

"Blue jeans and a sweater, Fleur? Whatever happened to dressing to kill?"

Fleur smiled at her old friend. "I knew I would not escape your careful scrutiny, 'ermione. It has something to do with a possible adventure later today. However, shall we sit down and enjoy a fine espresso?"

The two friends moved to sit down and once their orders had arrived, they breathed in the very familiar smells of the drink they had grown to love back in France.

"'ermione, I must confess that it was a shock to hear your voice. I thought you had forgotten all about your old friend Fleur, especially since you had moved to the United States after your fourth year at Beauxbatons," Fleur began.

Hermione's face grew a little sheepish at her friend's chiding remark. "I had too, you know, kept my steps quiet when I had left Beauxbatons and returned to England for the summer that year," she replied. "It was such a chaotic time with the Ministry first denying that the Dark Lord had returned and then finally coming out and admitting it after Cedric Diggory and his father went public with the memories of the Third Task of the TriWizard."

Fleur looked confused by Hermione's comments. "What do you mean?"

"The entire British magical community was in an uproar and a lot of British muggleborns were looking to leave the country given that the Dark Lord would be targeting them first," she replied. "We had already decided to move to the US given what had happened to me both during the Second Task and then of course Cedric Diggory's return. So Mum and Dad had already decided that they had had it with Britain, but just as our place sold, we got wind that the Wizengamot had voted to force all British magical students to finish their magical education at the school where they had started their magical studies.

"Of course, that would have forced me to return to Hogwarts and I swore I would rather be obliviated and forget all about magic than return to that school

"So, we quietly pulled up stakes and left the United Kingdom – with a little help from my former head of house Professor McGonagall. But we had to keep our location and our move quiet for at least two years until our US citizenship papers came through or the British magical ministry could perhaps have tried to force me back to Hogwarts.

"And then, new studies integrating magical and non-magical subjects, the healing of my parents, the recent birth of my brother in my last year at Great Lakes….I guess I just got so involved in my new studies and home that I forget about Europe and my old friends.

"Can you ever forgive me?"

Fleur simply embraced her old friend and as the two women hugged, Hermione felt the slight pangs of guilt melt away.

"I too must beg your forgiveness as I got so scared with what was going on back in Britain and then in working on my charms and then enchantment masteries that I forgot to contact you. Yes, I was worried about you but I felt that you were a survivor and your name did not come up on the casualty lists from the British ministry."

Hermione took a moment to digest Fleur's comments before her face took on a calculating look that Fleur was only too familiar with. Yes, the curious cat was awake and alive in Hermione now.

"Well, now that we have dispensed with the reasons why we lost contact with one another, you've got to tell me how you met Harry," she burst out.

Harry would have to pay up, Fleur decided. She had guessed that once initial greetings and apologies were dispensed with that Hermione would go right to work on the Harry question.

"Well, I met him after he saved my life – and in turn, I was the first to discover a hitherto undiscovered wizard who wanted to know why I had 'the buzz'"

Hermione looked at Fleur with wide eyes. "The buzz?"

"Yes, as you probably are aware, Harry can read auras and while he did not know what he was seeing in me, he said I was the first person he had encountered who had the same buzz as he had."

"How did he save your life?"

Fleur launched into a description of the events of that April day six months earlier and by the time she had arrived at their coffee shop meeting, Hermione's face had become both serious and animated.

"Do you owe him a life debt? How could a wizard remain undetected for so long? What did you suggest he do next? Is he being trained anywhere? Where would an adult wizard who hadn't been trained go to learn about his magic?"

"'ermione, 'ermione, plus lente s'il vous plait. Tes questions sortent comme des balles d'une mitrailleuse. Please, slow down. I'll try to answer, but when your questions are like bullets from a machine gun; my first reaction is to duck."

Hermione visibly forced herself to breathe more slowly and then she began again, this time restrained. By the time Fleur had answered her questions in some degree of depth, the time had advanced considerably and the shadows were lengthening outside.

"'ermione, I had another reason in inviting you 'ere for an espresso. I have a dinner invitation for both you and me with Harry, his family….and a Doctor Peter Alcott. Perhaps you would decide to come and then you can grill 'arry to your heart's content."

It took a few seconds for Fleur's words to penetrate Hermione's brain and then a look of disbelief crossed her face, followed by excitement.

"He did it, he did it," she began in a flurry. "I thought for a moment that he was pulling my leg and just trying to find a way to talk to me, but Harry actually did it."

"Did what?" her friend wanted to know.

"He does know Peter Alcott – this is like a dream come true," Hermione replied. "I've been wanting to meet him for some time – he is a legend around the pediatricians in the city and I thought if I could just meet with him and get a letter of recommendation that would help so much in my application to Columbia."

"Well, I guess Harry does know him – I've met him as well a couple of times. He is an old friend of Harry's family and since Harry's adoption; he has been one of Harry's family doctors.

Hermione's face grew pensive as she took in this new information. It was obvious from Fleur's comments that she had deepened her acquaintance with Harry beyond just the first day they had met – if she had a good working knowledge of Harry's family and friends, this suggested at least a good friendship if not something further. Yet Fleur did not give off the signs she had seen in the past with others – of someone marking off her territory and protecting her territory from others. Fleur was showing Hermione a genuine interest in having her share a meal with Harry's family.

The thought of meeting the man she had been trying so desperately to meet was threatening to drown out all her other fears and worries. To meet Peter Alcott could give her application to Columbia the boost it needed – and she would not turn a gift horse down.

Still she had to get some clarification of Fleur's status with Harry. For she recognized in herself the signs of awakening interest in the black haired green eyed young man. Especially if he could keep his word to her as it appeared he had.

"'ermione, are you still with me? Your face looks like you are off somewhere else – ta tete est dans la lune." Fleur interrupted her reveries.

"Pardon, Fleur. It is just that it is so rare for someone to actually keep their promise to me. In the past, people only pretended to be my friend to get me to do their homework for them or to get answers to difficult questions.

"But I am curious. Have you met the Wells family?"

Fleur smiled, suspecting where this was going. "If you might recall, the day I met Harry, I also met his mother and his youngest sister – and she is a witch with some amazing powers of her own. It was very clear very quickly that Harry's family had some idea that he was unique and different – and they were looking for some explanations into why he was different. Thus, when Harry found out that I had the same 'gift' as he did and seeing that I had already made the acquaintance of his mother and sister, he invited me down to meet the whole family. And the rest as they say is history."

"So you became the Wells family's first introduction to magic?"

"Oui, and as such, I formed friendships with the whole family. They are a welcoming family as is their community.

"This gets me to an important point in this conversation, 'ermione. 'Arry and his family are part of a special community and many lives depend on keeping the secret of this community. You are invited to meet Harry and his family, as well as his community, but I will need a witches oath."

Hermione snapped back at Fleur's words in surprise. "A witches oath? Why?"

"Because where Harry lives is magical in its own way and because many good people depend on the secret of his community." Seeing Hermione's eyes narrow in suspicion, she continued. "And, before you think this is strange, I have sworn this oath, mon pere has sworn this oath – and once he saw the community, he said he understood why."

Seeing Hermione now begin to waver, she decided to stroke the fire of her curiosity further. "And, think, the American Magical authorities have awarded this community a special status. But I can say nothing further without your oath."

Hermione was sorely tempted to just give in, but she had to be sure. "Are there any illegal activities being carried on by this community? I cannot support anything that is illegal or that hurts others."

Fleur smiled her reassurance. "'ermione, vous avez ma promesse qu'il n'y a aucun mal chez Harry. I would do nothing with something that is illegal or wrong."

"Okay," Hermione said in a rush and gave her oath. She could see Fleur's face give way in relief as the blue flash indicated the acceptance of Hermione's pledge.

"Now, 'ermione, in the words of Harry, it's time for us to go and visit and for you to find out what the rabbit hole is like."

"Rabbit hole? Are you talking about Alice in Wonderland?"

"Is that what the story is? Harry said it is some kind of English fairy tale. All I know is that there are some similarities."

Hermione was now completely confused and her confusion only grew as they exited the café after paying the bill. She knew the city in a general sense and noticed immediately that they were walking towards Central Park.

"Fleur, are you saying that Harry lives by Central Park? There are some very expensive homes there."

"'ermione, you must learn to listen when I tell you things. I said we are going 'down' to Harry's home and that it is the same as going down a rabbit hole. Harry's home is not in New York City at all – at least not above the ground."

Thoughts were racing around Hermione's mind and she tried to make sense of Fleur's comments. How could someone live in New York and yet not live in New York, let alone not above the ground? Was he living in some kind of underground shelter? Perhaps even with the goblins? That made no sense.

By now, they had arrived at the park and Fleur was walking at a brisk pace down paths towards the Central Park merry go round. Hermione found herself almost running to keep up with the French witch and she swore to herself that she had forgotten Fleur liked to move quickly. No careful sedate walking for that French woman.

She was just about ready to call a halt to this entire strange outing when she heard a familiar voice call out in a teasing tone.

"So, Hermione, Fleur convinced you to visit the rabbit hole?"

Abruptly she turned to see a grinning black-haired young man leaning nonchalantly on the edge of what appeared to be a tunnel entrance. Her surprise quickly turned to irritation as she thought of the requirement of the oath, the mystery surrounding Fleur's walk and now seeing a smiling Harry.

"Nice rabbit hole, Mr. Wells," she said, somewhat frostily. "Very funny to have Fleur take me all the way out to Central Park with the idea that you live here.

"I'm sure next that you will tell me that this tunnel is your front door?"

Fleur couldn't help giggling at first, then laughing softly. "'ermione, you have no idea. I told you that this is well worth the oath."

Harry had an answering smile on his face and it was evident to Hermione that he was attempting to hold back his own laughter. "Well, Miss Granger, in a manner of speaking, this is my front door.

"You see, Hermione, I, and my family, and the core of the community that I live with, all call the tunnels of New York City home. We even have a name for it – the World Below.

"And in case you are worried about whether or not this location is known to the Magical U S authorities, you can relax. This entire community is under special dispensation – we are called a magically hybrid community where non-magical, magical and gifted people can live together without regard to the Statute of Secrecy."

At Hermione's widening eyes, Harry smiled. "Well Fleur, I owe you $10.00. You said that she would be speechless when she found this out – at least at first."

The bushy haired brunette began to sputter at the chuckles of her two friends. The nerve of them to discuss in advance how she would react. Well, she would make sure that she would exact a ton of answers to her questions as payment and even retribution for her teasing humiliation today.

"Well, Mr. Wells," she said in a prim tone, ""I'm ready to go down the rabbit hole. But I am putting you on notice that I will exact my revenge – by questions."

Both Fleur and Harry looked at each other and Fleur shuddered. She knew how tenacious Hermione could get and she realized Harry had no idea on the force he had released today. But this was not the time to warn him as Harry had turned and had tripped the hidden catch at the back of the tunnel. With a slide, the hidden door opened and Hermione began her journey to a world beyond her ability to even imagine.

Tunnels, torches lit and the sounds of dripping water, clanging pipes and whistling winds. Hermione was so overwhelmed by the entire environmental experience that she barely registered when Harry produced a pipe and began banging in a rhythmic fashion on the pipes.

"He's signaling on ahead that we are coming," Fleur whispered in her ear as they continued their slow descent.

Legions of questions came together, formed in ordered ranks and then fell apart as a new scene or sound presented themselves to the young pre-med student. What kind of world was it down here that a young wizard could live without learning about his heritage; what kind of place would attract a young female French witch who was used to being visible above and dressing to kill – Hermione was being sucked into the rabbit hole indeed.

And then it happened.

One moment they were walking down a tunnel, looking at the sights and hearing the sounds and the next Hermione found herself falling when a small body impacted her . The cry of pain and the smell of fear permeated the tunnel and Hermione picked herself up from the dust to look down on a young waif, dressed in clothes that would have looked at home in a Renaissance fair, who was clutching her leg in agony.

"I am so sorry, miss, so sorry," the young girl cried, huddling down and clutching a leg that looked obviously hurt. "Don't hit me. I am so sorry."

Hermione's first reaction was to lay soothing hands on the young girl and she did so, using practiced hands to lay her out on the tunnel floor. Ignoring the two adult magicals with her, she began speaking slowly in a calm low voice.

"It is I who should be asking your forgiveness, young lady," she began. "If I hadn't been where I was not supposed to be, then you wouldn't have run into me.

"Here, let me just check your leg here for a moment," she continued. "What is your name?"

"Kellie," came the timid response. Then Kellie's eyes saw Harry behind Hermione and her eyes grew even wider. "I'm sorry, Harry. I guess I was just playing a game of hide and seek with Elsie and forgot that you were bringing visitors down below."

Hermione was feeling along Kellie's leg and noted her twinges as she moved her hands up the obviously injured limb. There did not seem to be anything broken, but she suspected there would be severe bruising at least. At the same time, she could hear Harry speaking to Kellie in the background and she quietly noted his changed demeanor.

"Well, Kellie, you don't need to apologize. We should have been looking out for little people racing along the tunnel ways," he said, his voice low and serious. "Can you forgive us?"

Despite the pain, Kellie quietly giggled – it was obvious that the green eyes and black hair worked with young girls as well as young witches.

Suddenly Kellie sucked in her breath – Hermione had hit an especially sensitive spot. She looked quickly at the young girl and could see she was trying to be brave, but that tears were beginning to leak from under her eyelids. Then she remembered what Harry had said – there was a special status for this community. Perhaps here, she could refer to her magic.

"Kellie, my name is Hermione and I am one of Harry's friends. I would like to take away some of your pain so that you can have your leg checked out. Would you allow me to help you?"

Kellie looked at Hermione carefully, then at Harry. When Harry gave a slight nod, then she nodded her approval.

"There will be a slight blue glow and then the pain in your leg will grow numb," the young witch said, still slowly and calmly. She could see Kellie's interest and she began a series of slight magical movements. For a few seconds, Kellie's leg glowed blue and then the young girl looked at Hermione with a look of wonder.

"The pain is mostly gone, Hermeeone," she said, stumbling slightly over the unfamiliar name.

Harry now stepped in and gently picked up the young waif. "Well, Kellie, you know what this means, don't you?"

"You get to carry me to the kitchens? That means that Elsie can't catch me now," she smiled at him and then turned to Hermione.

"Thank you, Mione."

Warmth flooded Hermione's heart as she considered that she had been able to use her magic for the first time to help someone who was sick or injured since her Great Lakes Institute days. She was still considering how it affected her as the group, now grown by one, continued on a slower pace down to the community's Hub.

Hermione kept a careful eye on her new young friend as they continued their way to the Hub. Kellie was beginning to nod off in Harry's arms – one of the side effects of the numbing charm that she had used was to put the patient to sleep. So as she watched, Harry began to tell the story of the founding of their world.

The pre-med student could now hear voices and the rush of subways as they got closer to the community's center. Soon she was catching glimpses of people moving along the tunnels or at seeming ease in chambers along the way. She noted the same blend of renaissance style clothes and clothes that obviously fit in an underground environment, but at the same time she noticed that each inhabitant seemed to take pride in individual styles – almost as if they were in a competition for who could be the most sartorially unique.

She also noticed the friendly greetings Harry and by extension Fleur received. Fleur obviously was a known quantity here. She herself attracted some curious glances, but there was no hint of reticence or suspicion in their eyes as they looked at her. Their curiosity was more benign and accepting.

It took her a few moments to realize that absent from their faces was the hard edge that living in New York gave the city's inhabitants. Life seemed to move a little slower here and there was an openness and friendliness that she had long forgotten since her days at Great Lakes Magical Institute.

All the while Harry was giving her a running commentary on the various sights and sounds they were encountering. Then he turned one corner and walked into a large spacious chamber that was well lit and had….books. Hundreds, even thousands of books – old, out of print, tattered, but books. Books lovingly maintained, open in places where it was obvious that readers had left for a short time and would return shortly to resume their acquaintance with old friends.

In simple terms, a Hermione Granger heaven.

Her opinion of Harry and his world rose dramatically upon seeing the enormous library. Obviously, living underground in New York did not mean that they were shutting themselves off from civilization and learning. They had time here for culture and for education. Her fingers itched to wander and crack some of those books open, but she had a responsibility first to the young girl she somehow considered her patient.

She ripped her eyes away from the books only to catch Fleur nudging Harry and hear her speaking to him. "It's like I told you, 'arry, you have everything you need to catch Hermione Granger's attention – good looks, great eyes and great books. Now that she knows they are here, you can be certain that she will find her way back to this place if you are not careful."

Hermione's face blushed red at Fleur's comment, but she found herself smiling at her words. Her friend knew her so well. And perhaps this evening would see time to revisit this place.

She caught movement on the opposite side of the large room near a set of circular stairs and she noticed two elderly men stepping forward from the shadows of a chamber beyond. Harry rushed over with his young passenger.

"Grandfather, Peter, we have a young patient for you. She was running along the tunnels, ran into our new guest and hit her leg on the rock wall."

The man Harry addressed as Peter signaled for him to deposit Kellie on a bench along one book covered wall and he began to roll up his sleeves. Hermione rushed over to observe and explain.

"When I got up from being knocked over, this young lady was lying on the ground next to the tunnel wall and she was holding her leg. I carefully ran my hands along her leg and noted that it was tender in two places, both below the knee. I tried to calm her down as I had been trained in my high school first aid course and then…."

Peter was looking at Hermione with an indulgent smile. It was obvious to him that she was concerned about Kellie and that she had acted as a proper first aider would. But her next words took even him by surprise.

"I used my magic to surround her injured leg with a numbing charm – something that I had seen and practiced in my magical healing course," she continued nervously. "I couldn't do anything more as I had not yet had the training to try to heal the leg."

Peter's eyes had widened slightly at Hermione's openness on what she had done, but then he smiled. "So you are one of Harry's magical friends – the one who wants to go to Columbia Medical School?"

Hermione nodded, even more nervous as it dawned on her who she was speaking to.

"Well, Miss Magical Friend of Harry, your instincts are good. Very good. You did what you could to calm the patient, elevate the injured part, and then use what knowledge you had to do what you could and no more. Well done. In fact it appears that Kellie has developed a crush on you."

It was now the turn of Hermione's eyes to go wide and look back at Kellie who had opened her eyes and was smiling at her new friend.

"Dr. Peter, she waved her hand, there was a blue glow and the pain went away," the little girl said to the now smiling doctor. She then turned back to Hermione and began chattering away.

Peter looked at Hermione who had moved a chair into place beside the bench and was now quietly talking with the excited young girl, then touched her on the shoulder. "Miss Magical, how long will the numbing charm be in place?"

"About two to three hours – she already had a bit of a nap coming down here from where the accident occurred," Hermione replied. "Her leg will still have to be looked at, but I suspect it was only severely bruised – there was no sign of a broken bone or more severe damage." She then turned back to Kellie who was pulling on her arm to turn her attention back to herself.

Peter now looked at Jacob Wells and nodded. He moved backwards and in began speaking in a low voice. "Trust Harry to find someone who's interested in medicine and who has good instincts in both diagnosis and in demonstrating good judgment."

Jacob's pride in his unorthodox grandson had only grown over the years and while he was still having difficulties adjusting to all the new changes that the past few months had wrought in his underground realm with the discovery that Harry was a magical, he could see the benefits to the community in having a magical person who was interested in non-magical medicine affiliated with their world.

"Perhaps we can finally retire if this young lady would consent to be trained by two old doddering doctors," he replied to his old friend with a bit of a twinkle.

Peter knew the underlying sentiments in Jacob's words. The older doctor had confided only recently that he was concerned about supplying medical services to the world below. Old age had finally caught up with the tunnel world's patriarch and while Vincent had many of the talents of a doctor himself, there was still the need for a human face to the tunnel world's medical needs. And then Harry had brought this obviously intelligent, compassionate and medically inclined young woman into their world.

Dr. Peter Alcott, esteemed pediatrician of New York City and a well respected member of the city's medical fraternity, in that moment decided to do more for his new "Miss Magical" friend than simply write a letter of recommendation. He decided to take her under he and Jacob's wing and while training her, hopefully entice her to enter into service for the community of Down Below.

All this of course after watching Miss Magical in action for only a few moments. He would share his decision with her later and if possible feel her out about future mentoring opportunities.

But now, he had a young girl to examine and then a dinner to attend.

"Miss Magical, I would like to invite you to observe as I make my examination of your new young friend and if you would be so kind as to keep her occupied, I can form a quick diagnosis and help calm our young patient down," he began. The answering spark of interest in Hermione's eyes told him everything he needed to know that the seduction of Miss Magical was already underway.

Standing in the middle of the library, Harry and Fleur looked at one another with a smile. "It looks like Dr. Peter has a new fan," Harry said to his French friend now with a look of satisfaction.

"I didn't know how it was going to happen, but I had a good feeling about 'ermione," she replied. "And who knows where this will lead?"

They left the library silently, knowing that Hermione was in good hands with Peter and Jacob and they moved to the adjoining Hub kitchens where a frazzled Diana was trying to rein in her two girls. Her efforts fell apart the moment Catherine's eyes fell on Fleur and Harry.

"So she's here, isn't she? Where do you have her hiding?"

Erin pulled away from her mother. "You brought her, didn't you? You even sent a message on the pipes. Where is she?"

Harry put up hands that asked for forgiveness. "We had a slight run-in with Kellie way up on the north side," he began in a note of explanation. "Kellie got injured and so Hermione decided to help numb her pain until we could bring her here – and of course, Peter was right there when we arrived. Now she and Dr. Peter are treating their patient."

Diana could only smile at Harry's explanation. "Those two young terrors have been excited about meeting your latest friend for at least an hour. I imagine that Erin is going to give Kellie a piece of her mind for meeting your new friend first. But let's gather around – it's just us, Peter and Grandfather for supper. Alex Mackenzie said he would be by later."

Harry looked around for his father and Jacob Jr. "Where's Dad and Jacob?"

"They're coming from the whirlpool – something about freshening up," Diana replied, already examining the table and making sure that everything was there. She had no worries about the meal itself – William had promised it would be one of his masterpieces even though Harry had insisted that it simply be an ordinary meal.

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Hermione, Peter and Jacob Senior. Peter was deep in a conversation with Hermione about Mary with whom they had left Kellie.

"So she has been the nurse and mother to many of these children for years," he was saying. "If you noticed, Kellie did not look worried or upset even though you were leaving her in the hospital chamber."

Hermione became suddenly aware that they had attracted an audience and took in the three females of the Wells family as well as Harry and Fleur who were looking her over with hints of a smile.

"I don't think I have seen Peter so animated about our hospital chamber for a long time," Diana said, her hint of a smile broadening into a welcoming grin. "I'm the mother of this motley crew – with the exception of Fleur, Peter and of course, Father - or as you've probably already been introduced to as Jacob Wells Senior." She was moving forward with her hand extended even as she was speaking.

Catherine who had been excited only moments before to see Hermione, now retreated to the shadows along the wall opposite the door. Diana could only shake her head – she knew she had a lot of work to do yet to help her oldest move past her shyness. But then Hermione looked directly at her daughter and gave her a slight wave at which Catherine's eyes went wide.

Sensitive and observant young woman, Diana said to herself even as she grasped Hermione's hand in welcome. "I guess my son is not the most hospitable of hosts seeing as he has not yet introduced us to one another. I'm Harry's mother, Diana Bennett Wells, and these two young ladies are Harry's sisters, Catherine and Erin.  
"You must be Hermione."

The young witch nodded in response and repeated her gesture to Catherine. Then she repeated her greeting to Erin and was rewarded with a rare smile.

Harry then broke in and completed the round of introductions. "My father and my brother will be here shortly. All I ask from you, Hermione, is that when you meet my father, you keep an open mind."

Confused by Harry's comment, she looked to Fleur. Fleur's only statement was in a low tone in French. _"Remember what I had mentioned earlier – about les contes de fees? Well here they become reality."_

The guests gathered around the table and began enjoying a typical William supper. With the buzz of conversation, Hermione found herself reflecting on how the day had gone. From a coffee with a long lost friend to the wizard's oath to the Merry Go Round, the tunnel descent, the accident with Kellie and finally meeting one of the people she had been hoping to meet for quite some time – everything was bizarre and very much out of her ordinary experience.

But then the world of magic itself was not ordinary either.

Then she felt a presence behind her chair and turned.

Her world shifted for a brief moment. What she saw was so out of her experience in spite of having attended Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Great Lakes that she could not place what she saw.

It was as if a lion and a man had come together.

The distinctive features of a lion merged with the incredibly expressive blue eyes of a man – then she connected with the world once again.

Fleur's earlier comment about fairy tales – she knew instinctively which fairy tale Fleur had meant – one of her favorites. _La Belle et La Bete, _of course.

She rose, lost in the expressive blue eyes and extended her hand. "You must be Harry's father. I'm Hermione Granger."

To Vincent, it was obvious that Hermione radiated acceptance and welcome once the initial shock of her first sight of him had faded. He marveled anew at the fortune of his adopted son in that he seemed to find women of extraordinary tolerance and talent. He sensed in that moment that this woman was most likely the third link in the chain that was already forming between Harry and Fleur and he also caught the whiff of satisfaction felt by both Peter and Father as they were considering Hermione. Something about encouraging a medical apprentice.

"It is my pleasure to meet another of Harry's friends," he said, bending his head in a gesture that seemed to belong to another age, one that Hermione, with her love of books, would almost have considered courtly. His voice sent a shiver up and down her back – the low tones promised warmth, depth and welcome to the hearer.

Then the quiet moment was interrupted by young Jacob's attempting to ruffle his older brother's hair. "I see that you haven't yet met the most attractive male members of the Wells family, Miss Granger," he said as he attempted to dodge his brother's return swat.

The arrival of the last two males livened up the conversation and Hermione found herself switching conversation between Harry, Fleur, Diana, the girls, and the two doctors with Harry's father and brother acting in more as observers.

Finally, the desert was lifted from the table and Hermione could finally get up and indulge her burning desire to slide over to the library and check out the book collection of the World Below. It was here that the first of a series of guests found her.

"You understand the value of a book and know how it can change the world," Vincent began, watching in amusement as she carefully ran her hands over several older thick tomes and pulling out some at random.

She started at his voice, then smiled. "This is like paradise to someone like me who learned early that books can be friends and gateways to other worlds," she replied.

"It was a decision made early by Dr. Jacob Wells, my Father and the patriarch of this world, to have books at the center of this world," Vincent continued. "Feel free to explore and browse – I can assure you that our books and our world remain open to those who call themselves our friends."

Hermione looked deep into Vincent's eyes and then smiled her own acceptance. "I call myself privileged to call this world my friend – and I now understand why you would ask strangers to give the strongest oaths they can to protect this unique place.

"Thank you for welcoming me in more ways than just words."

Vincent's lips twitched in what for him could only be a smile. "It seems that the only danger you will pose to our world will be to our books – I fear that some may be captured by you for long periods of time.

"But then they will know that you are a friend."

With that the community's patriarch heir apparent left her and went to spend some time with his oldest daughter.

Next in the visitors making their rounds was Jacob and Peter.

"We were impressed by your quick thinking and obvious medical instincts," Peter began. "I wonder if you are related to the Drs. Granger of the West Side dental clinic?"

Hermione marveled anew at how closely this community was tied in with the world above. "They would be my parents, Dr. Alcott."

Peter gave her a genuine smile. "I have only just heard of them and I hear they are doing some good work both in their clinic and with one of the local shelters. I should have realized there was a connection there."

His face took on a more serious mien as both he and Jacob regarded Hermione. "Harry's grandfather and I have been talking. We wonder if you would like to gain some medical experience with two old fogeys like ourselves and help us with some of our medical needs in this world – under our supervision.

"It goes without saying, of course, that I will be more than pleased to write that letter of recommendation for you to Columbia."

An explosion of excitement and joy bubbled up within Hermione at that point. Not only would she have a letter that would almost guarantee her entrance to one of the nation's top medical schools, but she would also have an opportunity to learn and work with two experienced medical professionals and even use some of her magical healing skills to boot – what was not to like about this current set up. And she could even keep up her friendship with Fleur – and Harry of course.

The excitement, joy and excitement and joy just ran across her face as the two older men looked on their new protégé with pride. "I think by the looks she is giving us that her answer is yes," Peter said to Dr. Jacob.

"Hopefully she will not be so lost for words in the future," was the old patriarch's only reply.

Then he said words that changed everything for Hermione in his next breath.

"Who would have thought that accepting a British child by the name of Harry Potter and adopting him would result one day in gaining a new medical student for our world."

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**A/N: So? Like the ending? I hope you did :)  
And if not, don't bother flaming, cos we'll just use them to roast... Toads with flowers in their mouth. ;)**


	17. Chapter 16: Revelations and Inheritances

**A/N: Hey guys! So, this was suppose to go up yesterday with chapter 16, but it seems that it didn't load! So you get it today :P Hope you like it! :D**

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Chapter Seventeen: Revelations and Inheritances

The words uttered by Dr. Jacob Wells burst upon Hermione's consciousness with the force of a lightening bolt. Things that she had been wondering suddenly clicked and moved into logical order. Of course. Why had she not thought of that first? Why had it taken Grandfather Wells' comments to open her eyes to what she should have seen from the beginning?

Her face whitened for a moment and Peter moved in to take her pulse with a concerned expression. "Miss Magical, are you okay? You look pale."

Hermione shook her head. "I am fine, Dr. Peter. Perhaps the thought of realizing so many dreams was a bit overwhelming. However, I do have one question."

"Ask away, my soon to be young apprentice," Peter replied, glad to see some color returning to her cheeks.

"Was Harry's birth name Harry Potter?"

She heard someone behind her sucking in his or her breath at her question. Instinctively she knew it was Fleur and she turned to her friend.

"You knew, didn't you? You knew who he was and did not bother to tell me." She was now irritated and short with her French friend. Why had she not trusted her with this?

Although Hermione was feeling hotter with each passing second, she still registered that the two older doctors had respectfully retreated and were leaving her with her friend. Then Harry made his way gingerly to the two women.

"She didn't tell you, Hermione, because it wasn't her secret to share."

Hermione felt confused. Like all of wizarding Britain she had spent two years at Hogwarts wondering where the Boy Who Lived had gone. The looks of disappointment on the faces of the young first and second years of her two years at Hogwarts had remained burned upon her memory – especially when witches and wizards had spoken about the sacrifice he had made to fight off the Dark Lord when he was but a baby.

Then, to see the dark ritual Dumbledore had used to attempt to locate the Boy Who Lived once and for all, only to watch as the Goblet disintegrated when the ritual rebounded and the sad conclusion that Harry Potter was dead.

Harry looked at the bushy haired witch with concern. He had known that once she had sworn the oaths that she could be brought in to the secret, but he had not guessed how she would react to the revelation of who he had been.

Instead, Hermione turned back to Fleur. "How long have you known?"

"Since the first day we met, 'ermione," the French witch replied softly.

"And how could you guys keep it a secret for so long? Thousands in Britain are depending on him – on Harry."

"We could not, 'ermione," Fleur replied. "Once I knew who he was and once he had shared his story, we – Mon Pere, the Special Agent in charge of the Magical FBI for New York, the goblins – we all realized that there was more going on than we had first thought. To protect Harry – to protect this world – from one manipulative Hogwarts Headmaster, we had to keep the secret for now and we have to proceed carefully."

Looking around her, it was clear to Hermione that the three magicals were now alone – that the rest of Harry's family had given them room and privacy to discuss what was obviously a contentious issue. Thus, there were no witnesses to Harry's next move when he reached across to her and placed his hands on either side of her face.

"Hermione, I want you to know that we did not attempt to hide anything from you other than what we felt was necessary to keep the secret both of this world and who I once was. We have only come to know you for little over a week, yet I feel as if I've known you for many years.

"We would have revealed the whole situation to you very soon anyway – I believe that you have information on what the old fool of a Hogwarts Headmaster was planning and we would like to tap your brain for your ideas."

Hermione's initial irritation was evaporating as the sincerity and earnestness of both Fleur and Harry registered. But she was now more confused than ever. "What Dumbledore was planning? I don't understand."

Harry motioned to a group of chairs in an alcove on the edge of the library. "Let's fill you in," he said, moving towards one of the chairs himself.

"I want to ask you right at the start – what had you heard about the Boy Who Lived when you had arrived at Hogwarts?"

Hermione's face went into what Fleur would call her pensive mode. "You were living in a palace or secret place where you were kept from those who would take advantage of you. You would occasionally leave your safe place to help some village or group of magicals with some danger or threat, solve it and then return to your safe place."

Her face then reddened as she thought of where she had learned these facts. "Actually these were stories in some 'fairy tale' books about you. It pictured you as a thin boy with glasses, black hair and a lightning bolt scar."

Harry looked to Fleur with surprise. "Fairy tale books? I am in fairy tales? That does match what I did look like when I first arrived here – glasses, thin size and lightning bolt scar." He lifted up his fringe of black hair and Hermione could see the faint white outline of a lightning bolt scar.

He then sat back and looked again at Hermione. "Would you like to hear the real story about Harry Potter, the boy who lived and then died?" At her nod, he began and in twenty minutes, the legend of the Boy Who Lived died in Hermione's mind forever.

It was to a quiet group that Diana and Erin came half an hour later. Fleur had her arms around a pale Hermione who looked as she was going to be sick and Harry looked drained and exhausted. It didn't take her long to put the whole picture together.

"So you updated Hermione on the true situation, Harry?" Diana asked as she placed her hand gently on her shoulder.

Harry only nodded as Hermione was shaking her head. "I knew Dumbledore was a manipulative old fool, but I never had the idea that he would go that far. I feel sick that he would have stooped so low as the Blood Ritual to summon you, even knowing that if you were not in a position to respond that it could kill you.

"I was in the Great Hall when Dumbledore said the words and cast the spell that fired up the Blood Summoning Ritual. I felt a chill when the spell went out and I actually felt ill when the spell returned and blew up the Goblet.

"To think that it actually killed you magically – I'm so sorry, Harry."

Fleur gave a squeeze to Hermione even as Harry smiled reassuringly at her. "There's nothing to feel sorry about, Hermione. You didn't know and I am just glad that I wasn't there to experience the old man's manipulations. Would I have had a good life if I had been in Britain under his thumb? I doubt it.

"Do you understand how, however, why we had to keep things a secret?"

She nodded her head in agreement. "I will gladly help you and your family in any efforts against Dumbledore."

Then a small voice was heard as Hermione felt the small girl with Diana focus on her.

"You are the third. You will be the anchor that unites fiery passion with the Child of Destiny."

Both Fleur and Harry sucked in their breaths even as Diana turned wide eyes upon her youngest daughter. "Alors, c'est vrai. It's true," Hermione heard Fleur say in a whisper.

Hermione turned confused eyes to Harry and Fleur. "An anchor? Uniting fiery passion with the Child of Destiny? The third? What is she talking about?"

Diana lifted up her eyes to Hermione in sympathy, yet with a glint of humor in her eyes. "I think I know what Erin is talking about, Hermione, and yes, she has been proven to be a Seer as you magicals define it. However, I think Fleur and Harry will be much better to fill you in with what the last statement means. It concerns them more than me anyway."

With that she quickly backed away, leaving Fleur and Harry to look at each other even as their faces grew red. "'Arry, I think you should tell her," Fleur began.

"No, Fleur, you know her better than I. I only have known her for about a week."

"Tell me what, you two? Don't dance around the issue. What was your sister telling me, Harry?" Hermione grew insistent.

"Well, it all began the same day that I met Fleur and saved her life. That same day we met my mom and Erin and then she said something about me and Fleur…."

Five minutes later, Hermione exploded. "You mean…. your sister said you would be part of a threesome? A ménage a trois?" Then she turned to Fleur with an equally severe expression. "And you went along with that?"

Fleur tried to lift up her hands in a placating gesture and Hermione, even though she was irritated and disbelieving, still couldn't help but notice how nonplussed her normally in control friend was now. "Look, 'ermione, at first I didn't know what to believe or think. It is not normal for Veela to share – in fact; there are very few places in our history where such an event has been recorded.

"But we Veela also have the gift of seeing the truth – especially in matters of the heart and love. And the more I saw Harry, the more I realized that my heart was becoming irrevocably tied in with his and he with me – yet I also realized that Erin had the Sight – she is a true Seer."

Fleur's sincerity was making an impact on Hermione. But how was she supposed to react to this revelation? Was she fated to become part of a threesome – knowing only one partner well? What would that mean for her plans? For her future? For her parents?

Her parents…she began to hyperventilate.

Her parents who had bounced around with all the impact of magic on their daughter and had worried that the magical world would be taking her away – how would they react to the possibility that their daughter was 'fated' to be one of a threesome? Something that no longer existed in the non-magical world.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and a wave of calm come over her. Looking up, she saw that her erstwhile two partners had discretely backed away, leaving Harry's auburn haired mother to place an arm around her and sit down beside her.

Diana's eyes radiated only acceptance and concern. There was no hint of worry, but her concern was genuine. "Hermione, I see that my daughter's statement took you a bit by surprise.

"She's been having that effect on all of us since we discovered her gift back in April."

Hermione tried to breathe more slowly and then her words blurted out. "What am I to do? What will my parents think? How am I supposed to act with Fleur and Harry?

Does it just happen…"

Diana's response was low and laconic. "Nothing,"

Hermione sucked in her breath, her building rant halted in midstride. "Excuse me?"

"Hermione, you do nothing."

"I don't understand."

"Hermione, you strike me as a young woman who tackles problems head on and as someone who tries to understand everything as soon as you find out about it. But in matters such as prophecy or matters of the heart, you can't force things. They either will or will not happen – or they will happen at their own time and in their own way.

"You can't bend or twist or force things such as that – and no one here is asking you to.

"May I ask you a frank question?"

The bushy haired pre-med student nodded, her eyes now appearing less frantic and worried.

"What would you have done in regards to Harry and Fleur had my daughter not said anything?"

Hermione began worrying her lower lip in concentration as she considered Diana's question carefully.

"I would have tried to see Fleur as many times as possible – she was and probably still is one of my closest friends.

"As for Harry," here her face blushed slightly and Diana smiled knowingly to herself, "I would probably have tried to get to know him a bit better. Even if he was Harry Potter, that doesn't mean that I don't like him."

"So what's changed?"

"Everything….."

"And nothing. For any twosome or threesome to really work, you have to begin on the foundation that you are already building with both Fleur and Harry. Before love comes friendship and mutual respect – and from what Harry's father, grandfather, Peter, and the rest of us can see – you are already building that with both of them.

"One day, I will have to tell you the story of how Vincent and I came together. We had no prophecy or Seer telling us this – in fact, it is a miracle that I am now here and that Vincent is not dead. But we began as partners seeking to correct a crime and find his son – and from there trust, partnership, then friendship grew – until we discovered that we could not be apart.

"Hermione, I have only met you for one day, but I can tell you that you've already made an impact on our world. I've never seen my two youngest so excited to meet one of Harry's friends and you've gotten my overly shy empathic daughter Catherine to come out of her shell just a bit. Thanks for that.

"I've never seen Father – Dr. Wells – and Peter so excited about a new person in our world. I pity you – you will be experiencing the horrors of working under them and two harder taskmasters I have never met.

"Harry feels comfortable with you – he was worried about how you would react when you found out who he was, but he wasn't going to hide, but I've learned how to read my son and he is at ease with you.

"Besides, he has already been the victim of someone who tries to carry out prophecies based on his own understanding – your old Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. At least that is what we think the old fool has been working on in regards to Harry's life.

"So, just relax, know that you've become a part of us regardless of what the future brings and allow life and friendships to develop as they will.

"And besides, we may even want to meet those parents of yours for ourselves. After all, this community could badly use the services of dentists."

Hermione's eyes were by now filling with tears, not of worry, but of acceptance and warmth. She realized how lucky Harry really was to have an understanding and accepting family as he did – and now she was a part of it. Abruptly, for a careful thinker such as herself, she did something very spontaneous.

She hugged the red haired woman who hugged her strongly back.

"Welcome, Hermione. You've got a home and family here now. And don't think we are going to let you go that easily."

As the two women stepped back from their embrace, Hermione saw movement out of the corner of her eye and she noticed Fleur and Harry smiling shyly in the distance. Diana stepped away, leaving the three young people to talk.

"You okay, Hermione?" Harry asked carefully.

"I think so, Harry." she replied. "Just let's not talk about threesomes any time soon, okay?"

Fleur also nodded her agreement and then she indicated a tall man in the back of the library. "I'm afraid that your meetings today are not over, 'ermione. Alex Mackenzie of the Magical FBI would like to ask you a few questions – about Hogwarts and Dumbledore."

"I figured as much – once you told me your story, Harry. I'll help anyway I can."

It was now Alex's turn to approach the young witch and within minutes, the four magicals began to learn and plan.

Hermione the next day didn't know how to feel. High, low, confused, warm, accepted, mysterious - all of these were running through her highly efficient brain and she found herself not knowing where to begin.

And then the calls began.

It was 10:00 when she answered her first call, only to find it was the director of Admissions to Columbia University.

"Miss Hermione Granger?"

"Yes?"

"This is Constance Wilkins of the Admissions Department at Columbia Medical School. While this is not the usual way we offer promising young students a medical scholarship, we heard from one of our emeritus professors that it would be a crime if we didn't' move quickly and snap you up. And thus, after careful review with the dean of your premed program at CUNY and a study of your grades, we are pleased to offer you an admission scholarship to our school.

"Will you accept?"

Hermione's mind raced. Who was the emeritus professor? She had to know.

"May I have the name…?

"Oh, I'm sorry. Of course, it is Dr. Peter Alcott. He spoke most highly of you and said he has already made arrangements for you to work as an understudy in his practice. That is very rare and of course, with that recommendation, the result is this call."

"Yes, yes, I will gladly accept."

"We will see that a formal offer will be delivered to you shortly. But in the meantime, Miss Granger, welcome to Columbia."

The phone had barely returned to its cradle when it rang again. She picked it up only to hear the familiar tones of her baby brother. They exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes before her mother got on the line.

"Princess, I was just thinking of you and felt I had to call. I see so little of you these days and are wondering how your plans are coming to get into Columbia."  
Emma was startled to hear her normally sedate daughter let out a whoop of excitement. "Mum, mum, you won't believe it. Yesterday, I reconnected with Fleur Delacour, my friend from Beauxbatons, connected with Dr. Peter Alcott, the pediatrician, received an offer to work as his understudy, met a boys' family and just now received an admissions offer to Columbia Med School based on Dr. Alcott's recommendation."

Emma heard the squeal of excitement from her daughter and quickly digested the news. Good – her best female friend was back. Good – she had made the connection with Dr. Peter, one that she had been pursuing for some time. An offer to understudy with him – worth its weight in gold. Excellent – admission to Columbia Med School meant a stronger commitment to staying in contact with her and her husband. Wait – met a boys' family? That marked a first. Time to get more information.

"Princess, slow down. Slow down. Congratulations in getting admitted to Columbia. But let's focus here – you met a boys' family. I've not heard anything about a young man in this picture since we last talked two weeks ago. Give me the details – all of them."

Hermione felt excitement bubbling up within her. Yes, she had a male friend. Well, there were complications, but she had a male friend.

"Mum, I've only met him for little over a week, but he's a student at CUNY taking business – and Dr. Peter Alcott is his family doctor. He's the one who made it possible for us to meet."

"Details, Hermione, details. I want to hear them now – and I won't get off this phone until I get them."

Hermione settled in her comfortable armchair with her coffee in hand and settling the phone more comfortably on her shoulder, began.

"Well, I was working late in the CUNY library when I walked into this….."

"We think that it is time to begin training for your OWLs, Harry," Snagtooth, Alex, Sebastien and Fleur sat around the conference table at Gringotts.

Alex nodded his agreement. "You have picked up magic from the goblins with incredible speed and power, Harry." Turning to Snagtooth, he bowed his head. "I will confess, Master Snagtooth, that your training methods are among the most efficient I have ever seen and I can testify how effective they are."

Snagtooth acknowledged Alex's compliment. "But you are not here to simply commend us on our training methods, Mr. Mackenzie, no?"

The MFBI agent nodded his head. "I am concerned about Harry and his OWLs," he said, looking around the table. "The unfortunate thing is that goblin magical methods are not what is tested on OWLs – what one is taught as a witch or wizard is what is tested. And I suspect when the story breaks eventually about Harry being here in the U S, as it must sooner or later, that old white beard in Hogwarts is going to suggest that only his school – and only Britain can train Harry as a wizard. He may even argue that Harry is not a full wizard until he has at least his OWLs."

There were nods of agreement from both Sebastien and Snagtooth. Fleur didn't know the importance of the point and Harry looked confused.

"Not a full wizard? I don't get it," he asked.

"The OWLs, Harry, are a set of internationally recognized tests that help others around the wizarding world accept that you are a competent adult wizard able to function in the world of magic. If Dumbledore can successfully argue that you are still an unskilled wizard, then he could make the case for you to be returned to Britain to 'complete your magical training," Alex informed him.

"And that is something that we don't want. We want to nail down every possible loophole for him to try to reassert control over you."

"And how am I to prepare for my OWLs? Can Fleur help?"

Fleur shook her head. "I took my OWLs in French, 'arry. It would take me some time to translate the material and relate it back to English for you – and we want you to pass as good as possible."

Then an idea hit Fleur. "But what about 'ermione? She already knows about 'arry and she has taken her OWLs in English here in America?"

Sebastien and Alex both nodded their heads, excitement dancing at the possibility. "Oui, ma Cherie, I think that would be a wonderful idea. Hermione would be a wonderful – if driven – teacher and she had a great reputation as a helper in getting others prepared for their courses," Sebastien said.

It was Harry who broke the silence next. "So how do we tell her – and who gets the job?"

"You want me to what?"

Hermione's eyes had gone wide at the joint presentation by Harry and Fleur. Harry repeated his request, mentally cursing the two older men who had pleaded they were too busy with other affairs to speak to the young bushy haired witch.

"Train me for my OWLS," he said again.

"Harry, I am busy with ongoing studies to complete my pre-med final year and get a head start on my med school courses as well as helping out Dr. Peter and your grandfather once a week. While I have been accepted to Columbia, I still want to study ahead so that I make a good impression. What about you, Fleur?"

Fleur shook her head. "'Ermione, you do remember that I took my OWLs in French, do you not? Harry will need to know what he has to study for in English as he will be writing them in less than a year – at the home schooled special OWLs session at Salem."

Hermione could see what Fleur was saying, but she knew her schedule was already on overload.  
"What if I throw in supper at least once a week – Down Below?" Harry offered, a twinkle in his eye.

"No deal, Harry. I'm already there on Wednesdays anyway to help with the clinic below."

"No, I'm thinking of Tuesday evenings. According to your schedule, you get together with Fleur anyway for coffee in the afternoon and then, it is just a simple hop, skip and jump down the alleyway tunnel entrance. Think – an hour or two in the library, then some warm food cooked up by William and then – some quality time with all those books just calling out for a friend to come over, caress their covers and crack them open. Mom even suggested that we get you a chamber of your own for Tuesday nights and then you can simply jump right in and work with the two medicals.

"Although I heard Peter calling you Down Below's own witchdoctor."

The prospect of the library, the meal of William's cooking and staying overnight in the chambers were beginning to wear down Hermione's resistance. Then Fleur joined in, a definite twinkle in her eyes now.

""ermione, did you know they have some rare first editions down there – books that have gone out of print a long time ago? Think, mon amie, of running your hands over the cracked bindings, of seeing dedications in long dead hands, of …."

"Okay, OKAY! I'll do it – only because you are presenting me with a way to save time. By staying in a guest chamber, I don't have to worry about getting back to the apartment and then coming back down.

"But don't think for a moment, Harry, that I will scrimp on your training for the OWLs." At that, she whipped out her day planner and began making notes. "Seeing that it is January, we have nine and a half months to work on getting you up to speed on what witches and wizards are supposed to know for their OWLs. I need to know what you have exactly covered in your studies with the goblins."

Her note taking became more ferocious as Fleur looked at Harry with a pitying glance. ""arry, I forget that she is a demon when it comes to studies. She was the only one among us at Beauxbatons who began working out studying schedules for our June exams – in April."

Hermione chose that moment to smile wickedly at Fleur. "But you did well, did you not, Fleur?"

"Oui, 'ermione, but you forget that people still have lives."

"Did you not win the best student award for your sixth year?"

Fleur slowly nodded her head. "Oui, I did." She then turned to Harry, "You have my sympathies."

Hermione actually gave an evil sounding chuckle. "Oh no you don't, Fleur. I'm including you as my assistant – you can help me connect the contents of the OWLs to what Harry has learned.

"If you've roped me into this effort, then the least you can do is share the task with me."

At Fleur's look of dismay, Harry just chuckled. "Heaven help me, I think we've created a monster, Fleur. Still not a bad idea, Hermione."

Hermione wrote a few more items down and then produced a basic schedule. "We'll start with Transfiguration for a few weeks and then go on from there."

The snow was melting from an early April storm that had appeared out of nowhere and had blanketed the city, but now gave way before the signs of true spring as two young women were seen to be walking along the route to the Magical Mall.

"Where are we going, Fleur?" the young bushy haired brunette asked her silver blond haired friend.

"It's time that we did the inheritance test on you."

"Inheritance test? Is that the one where goblins do a blood test which is banned in Britain?"

"Oui, it is. But you understand the reason for it, do you not?

Hermione shook her head even as they dodged a dirty snowdrift and the small pile of garbage that it had accumulated.

Fleur went on to explain the theory of the goblins that first generation magicals in Britain were more often than not the reemergence of old magical lines rather than the spontaneous appearance of magic in new generations.

"But why would the goblins be interested in doing this?" Hermione asked.

"Think, 'ermione, what is important to a goblin?"

"Battle and gold."

"You do understand, mon amie. You do understand. Think, if a long dormant vault is found to belong to someone who is a descendant of that house, what that would mean to goblins?"

Hermione nodded her head in understanding. "Okay, so they may pick up some new vaults or clients. But why me?"

"The goblins want to test everyone who has come from Magical Britain and Snagtooth asked if you could come by and get checked out. Besides, it is only a quick drop of blood and then – well, you will see if you belong to some long dusty old British magical line or not."

The two friends continued talking as they entered the Magical Mall and then walked up to the doors of Gringotts. Moments later, Fleur caught sight of Griplock who waved them over to his counter.

"Miss Delacour, Miss Granger, please come with me. Miss Granger, this should not take long."

Ushering the two into a small office where a medium sized bowl and parchment already stood ready, Griplock shut the door and motioned Hermione forward. "This will only take a moment and a few drops of blood, Miss Granger – and then we will learn what we will learn."

Hermione watched in fascination as her blood swirled around in the bowl for a few seconds before glowing blue. Then the parchment began to show lines and names.

Then Griplock sucked in his breath.

"This definitely complicates things, Miss Granger. I begin to wonder if everything in relation to Mr. Wells is such an accident or not. We will need to see Snagtooth immediately." Abruptly he rose and exited the office, signaling to the two witches to follow.

"Did you see anything, Fleur?" Hermione asked. "He grabbed the parchment too fast for me to see anything."

"No, but I think it must be significant – we would not normally be on our way to see Snagtooth."

Griplock had halted before another door and he knocked twice in what was obviously a series of signals. The door opened and he signed for the two women to enter.

Snagtooth was seated behind his desk, looking a bit surprised at the visit. Griplock handed him the parchment and then stood by the desk, allowing Snagtooth to glance over the parchment.

The only sign of any reaction from the old goblin was the raising of his eyebrows and the expansion of his eyes for a few seconds. Then a wolfish grin slowly crossed his features.

"Griplock, you have just earned yourself a bonus. Miss Delacour, you have as well. Single handedly, you have just dealt the British Wizengamot and your old friend Albus Dumbledore a serious blow."

Hermione was still in the dark about what the parchment revealed. "Could you please tell me what in Merlin's name is going on?"

Snagtooth looked at Hermione with a smile that showed real teeth. "Miss Granger, Miss Delacour, I would ask you to take a seat. There is much to discuss and some decisions to make.

"Or perhaps I should call you by the magical name that was revealed on this parchment, Miss Hermione Granger-Potter.  
"For it appears that you are Harry Potter's cousin eight times removed through your father – and now magic recognizes you as the new Head of House Potter."

* * *

**A/N: So? Any questions, comments, rude remarks? Send them to us! But remember, flames are used to make food...and I think today I'm in the mood for a chocolate fondue :3 **


	18. Chapter 17: Obliviations Undone

Chapter Seventeen: Obliviations Undone

Diana was smiling at the animated conversation between Fleur and Hermione. It was obvious that the two were close friends – their conversation switched back and forth from French to English to French in an easy flowing style that suggested a great deal of comfort and ease between the two young women.

It was still only two days since the latest bombshell had been dumped on the Wells family with the revelation that Hermione was the closest magical Potter relative to Harry. Yet it was a measure of how little Harry identified with the Potter name and legacy that he hadn't even blinked at the news, but instead embraced Hermione, saluted her as the new Head of the Potter family and then had laughingly gone on one knee to await her ladyship's pleasure.

To Diana, it was clear that the thought of all that wealth and the position that came with the Potter title had not sunken in with the bushy haired brunette yet. Instead, the two witches were discussing down below fashion – and how to possibly market these unique fashions to a fickle city above.

She could sense her husband approaching – his fatigue radiating from down the spiral staircase. She still marveled that after several years of marriage she could sense him as well as she could. They may not have the bond that existed between him and Catherine, but their ability to sense one another's thoughts and moods was a real gift in itself.

It was as he approached the door to the Commons and passed the torch near the entrance that he stopped and she felt a sudden spike of alarm in his emotions. He had sensed something.

At the same time, the flow of conversation had suddenly halted with Fleur worriedly calling out Hermione's name. "'Mione, Mione, ca va? Ca va?"

Diana turned around and saw Hermione sitting stock still, her eyes on the commons entrance and her face frozen in a rictus of fear. She looked towards the entrance and saw Vincent's shadow, made larger and more grotesque by the flickering flames of the torch in the tunnel outside.

She moved quickly to the young woman's side and laid her hand on Hermione's arm. Fear, panic, a sense of relenting terror were radiating from her and her eyes were frozen on the sight of Vincent's shadow on the wall. Her eyes were large and clearly out of focus.

"Hermione, Hermione," Diana began gently, but eliciting no response, she called out to her husband, "Vincent, move back please " Thankfully, he heard her and the grotesque shadow disappeared.

It took several seconds for Hermione's eyes to refocus and then the young woman visibly started. "What….where…am !?" She was clearly confused.

Signaling to Fleur to take Hermione's other side, Diana took hold of Hermione's right arm and guided her to a table in the center of the commons dining area, but ensuring it was far from the entrance.

Once Hermione was again seated, Diana looked at her carefully. From her light touch on the young woman's arm, the sense of blind terror had vanished to be replaced by a sense of confusion, and surprisingly, a sense of shame.

"Hermione, Hermione? Are you with us?" she asked steadily and calmly.

Understanding was flooding back into Hermione's eyes and her cheeks were now turning bright red. "It happened again, didn't it?" she turned to Fleur, ignoring Diana.

"Oui, Mione, oui," Fleur replied. The red tinge on Hermione's face deepened.

"Is this something you want to talk about, Hermione?" Diana asked.

The young woman at first shook her head. "I'd rather not…"

"Hermione, you froze when you saw Vincent's shadow on the tunnel wall and you've had no earlier difficulty with my husband before. Something's going on – something that concerns me," Diana replied.

The blush had deepened again. "It doesn't happen often – just at times, I see something – a shadow, a smell, a sound – and then I suddenly freeze.

"And I don't know why. And I try to figure it out, but I know I can't. And it eats at me."

"How long have you been fighting this?" Diana gently prodded.

Hermione's face tightened into a grimace. "Since my first year at Hogwarts, the magical school in Britain."

"Did anything happen to you there?"

"No, not that I can remember – not during my first year anyhow. However, my parents tell me that I changed after the fall term – I began suffering from panic attacks and intense anxiety. I event went to a psychologist, but we couldn't find anything."

Warnings flashed in Diana's mind. She had had experience with children and even adults struggling with repressed memories and her sudden freezing at Vincent's shadow suggested seeing his shadow had triggered something.

"You mentioned that your behavior changed after your fall term and I just heard you trying to remember something," she said in a calm low voice. No sense to panic the young woman. "It appears to me that you are coping with a memory issue.

"Is there any kind of magic that could suppress memories?"

The two witches looked at each other, then burst out in one voice, "Obliviate." At Diana's blank look, Fleur explained.

"Obliviation is a standard spell to make people forget something – an event, a person or a crisis. It is usually used when a non-magical sees a magic act and is applied by various obliviator squads by magical governments to ensure that the Statute of Secrecy is respected."

"Hermione, is there any way that you can find out if you were obliviated in your first year?"

Hermione began to say something, then closed her mouth. Her eyes turned inward for a moment, then turned back to Fleur and Diana.

"Why would you think that?"

"The symptoms you described usually are signs of repressed memories. Panic attacks, anxiety, freezing at sudden stimuli – all are possible signs of trauma and repressed memories. But then you mention that you are trying to figure it out – as if you deep down know something is missing, but you don't know what.

"That suggests that maybe someone removed something – something that I assume magic can do.

"I would suggest that you go to someone magical that you trust and ask them to check it out."

Hermione nodded her head in understanding and then looked to Fleur with raised eyebrows. Fleur nodded and the two girls embraced for a moment before Hermione tremulously smiled.

"Thanks, Diana, and please make my apologies to Vincent.

"So you suspect an Obliviation?" Sebastien Delacour asked Hermione as she sat down in the chair he offered.

"Diana Wells said the symptoms I have been living with since the fall term of 1991 sound like repressed memories, but I don't remember anything. Yet I somehow feel that there is something I'm missing."

Waving his wand over Hermione, Sebastien was conversational. "One of the things many Legilimencers forget is that when you do an obliviation, you only cut a memory off from other connections in the mind. You don't remove it nor do you remove the emotions that may be generated or associated with those memories. So let's see what we can find – with your permission?"

Hermione nodded.

"Legilimens."

"Ah, Mille Granger, a well ordered mind. Definitely the mind of a scholar and a budding young healer…ah, this is a surprise….a large surprise….let's just reverse this severing here. There, there and – oh my – Mon Dieu – that is a memory – let's see if we can guess the identity of our unknown obliviator.

"Mon Dieu – you old goat!" the last word was said harshly even as Hermione let out a scream, then put her head into her hands and began sobbing.

Fleur ran to her friend and put her arms around her. "Papa, was it bad?"

Sebastien's face looked old and tired. "Oui, ma Cherie. It was bad. I have to ask myself what kind of school the old goat is running. A twelve foot mountain troll nearly killed your friend here – and all he can do is obliviate her.

"All to keep the reputation of his school intact – Salaud!

"Help her Fleur. Maybe Diana can be a listening ear. But we must proceed carefully here.

"Very carefully."

Diana listened carefully to the frightening story as the now twenty-one year old woman tried to tell her a story of a frightened twelve year old girl facing a probable death in a girl's washroom only to be rescued and then obliviated to preserve the name of a school. Her best friend sat beside her, her arm holding Hermione tight even as the tale was told through sobs and curses.

"I hate him. I hate him. If I could kill him, I would." These expressions sprinkled Hermione's telling of the tale.

It was all Fleur and Diana could do to keep Hermione from trashing the library near Father's office while Sebastien looked at her with sadness in his eyes. Then the fury seemed to burn brighter as she reached the end of her tale.

"I could kill him.

"I should kill him.

"I want to kill him.

"Almost ten years I've suffered with these panic attacks, fears, depression, worrying about a memory lapse, a memory hole – all because a white haired old goat decides he's going to play God with his students.  
"I want so much to kill him. Mum and Dad got worn to a frazzle trying to help me calm down, dragging me to therapists – all because he didn't want me to leave the school. Can't afford to have bad publicity.

"But I have to let Mum know," she concluded, feeling wrung out and spent.

"She stood by me all the time I visited various therapists and psychologists to try to find out what was wrong. She needs to know."

Diana nodded her head. "I agree. She – and your dad – need to know. Let me help to set that up." She gave the young woman a tight hug and wasn't surprised to feel the woman hug her back.

"And maybe, just maybe, we can come up with a way to get the old fool back."

"Do we tell Harry now?" Fleur wanted to know.

Hermione let out a slight watery giggle. "Well, if Diana tells Mum about the obliviation, Mum's going to tell Dad and Dad's going to want to know who Diana is and by extension who Harry is anyway.

"I've been keeping Mum up to date on what has been happening between Harry and me – at least to the fact that Harry is one of my friends. I suspect Mum thinks Harry is more – I've never had a male friend before and she is intrigued with the connection between Harry and Dr. Peter. There have been hints lately that Harry should 'come by' and meet the family, but she knows me well enough that she will wait for me to bring that about when I'm ready.

"It's more Dad I am worried about - Dad has always said that he would torture any boy interested in his princess.

"So maybe, Harry shouldn't hear about it right away – at least until after our date next week?"

The three women laughed despite the situation and Diana, chuckling still after several seconds, said. "Let's begin with your mother."

* * *

**A/N: Events will start to move a little faster now as we begin the unraveling of the Dumbledore machinations to the 'controlled' unveiling of the existence of Harry Potter to our white haired old Headmaster in Hogwarts.**

** We stopped this chapter here, even though it is short, because meeting the family can have some rather interesting complications – especially when Mum and Dad Granger meet the whole family and find out that they have been interacting with members of the world below for some time. So stay tuned.**


	19. Chapter 18: Meeting the Parents Part I

Chapter Eighteen: Meeting the Parents Part I

To Diana, it was clear from the moment the woman entered the restaurant that she could only be Hermione's mother. The same chocolate brown eyes and bushy brown hair, only slightly tamed into a bun, told anyone what Hermione would look like in a few years.

She could see Hermione's mother glancing around the restaurant before her gaze fell on them and then she moved with an economy of movement towards her table. Diana had been asked by the two girls to take something of the lead here and she could see from looking sidewise at both Fleur and Hermione that both girls were nervous and agitated.

"Mrs. Granger?" Diana rose as the older woman approached their table.

"Emma please. I always look around for Dan's mother when I hear Mrs. Granger," she replied, holding out a hand in greeting. As Diana took the proffered hand, she could see Emma reflected both friendliness and wariness.

Emma then took the empty seat which left Diana and her side by side and the two younger woman seated between them. Diana saw Emma take in the other faces and then she broke out into a warm smile.

"Fleur, this is a pleasant surprise. Comment ça va?"

Fleur smiled in response. "Emma, ça va bien. Et vous?

« Tres bien. » Then she turned to Hermione. "Mione, could you introduce me to this woman who just greeted me."

Hermione blushed. "I'm sorry, Mum. This is Diana Bennet Wells, Harry's mom."

Emma now gave Diana a frank appraising look over. "Diana, forgive me for my bluntness, but I do need to know. Are you one of them?"

Diana suspected she knew what Emma was referring to. "If you mean whether I am a witch, I can assure you that I'm not. Harry and my youngest daughter are the only two members of my family who are magical."

Emma sagged a little in her chair. "Forgive the question, but we've had so many challenges and conflicts with the magical world that we are not sure how to proceed or react any more. I find it a relief that one of Hermione's few friends has a non-magical family because her father and I find it difficult at times to see how we fit in with a magical daughter in a world that seems to want to suck her in and never let her out again."

Hermione by now was blushing heavily. "Muuum! I've tried to tell you that I am not interested in any world that takes me away from family."

Emma smiled at her daughter's protestations. "Well, after all the experiences we have had with magic and now hearing that you need to talk with us about some major new magical news, I'm beginning to wonder."

She turned to Diana. "Diana, if I may call you that, do you know why I'm here?"

Diana nodded with a weary expression. "It has been an eventful few days and I may appear a little emotionally wrung out, But yes, I know what's going on and it was at my suggestion that we are sitting here today."

The waitress came by at that moment with menus and after taking their orders for drinks, Emma looked at Diana expectantly. "So I am all ears. What is so important that you needed to talk to me before you talk to my husband?"

"Hermione has recently found out some very important information, some of which can have a direct impact on you and your husband, and some of which go a long way to explaining what happened to her in her first year at Hogwarts," Diana began. She could see Emma's hands clench into fists at the mention of the school and knew, even without the readings of her gift, that this was definitely a sore point.

"I should begin by stating that I am a part time detective consultant with the NYPD and I've had the unfortunate chance to work with children undergoing trauma and abuse. In fact, it was watching Hermione in an incident yesterday that brought out some of what we're talking about here.

"This is a both a good news and less than good news conversation," she continued. "Which do you want to hear first?"

Hermione interrupted. "Diana, we talked about it. My mum likes to hear the bad news first because if she hears good news and knows bad news is coming, she will do nothing but worry about the bad news."

Emma's face took on a look of chagrin. "Never have a super intelligent daughter, Diana. They observe you and often try to guess your reaction before you're even aware of things yourself.

"But she's right. Let's hear the bad news first."

Diana took a sip of her dark roast coffee. The familiar rush of caffeine helped paradoxically to calm her nerves, a constant point of disagreement between her and Vincent who swore by the tea gods.

"We live in a special place, Emma, and the girls were visiting with me yesterday when Hermione saw something. It was simply a trick of the light which made the shadow of my husband look larger than normal, but when Hermione saw it, she froze."

Emma's face now paled and she turned towards her daughter. "Mione, I thought we were over that by now. The therapists said that all that was in the past."

Hermione was blushing again, but she looked her mother squarely in the face. "Mum, it only comes now and again. But we finally made a breakthrough. It was Diana who caught it."

Emma looked back at Diana and she could sense the pleading in her eyes. "Part of my job is working on cases of murder and abuse." She closed her own eyes in an attempt to shut out some of the gruesome memories. "I've learned pretty quickly about identifying people who are dealing with past traumas and Hermione's actions yesterday fit the bill almost to a T. So I began asking questions.

"Trouble was Hermione couldn't remember anything and she was getting frustrated with the panic attack and her inability to deal with the matter. Then she made comments about trying to remember, but not being able to. She was obviously worrying her mind about it.

"In my work, I've learned that if all signs point to something, then until other evidence comes up, I go with what the signs point to. Hermione had been traumatized in the past and now she couldn't remember it. She was having panic attacks when something about that event would trigger her fear and she was wearing herself out trying to find something that no longer appeared to be there. Ergo, something happened and perhaps something magical had removed the memory."

Hermione burst in. "Diana was the first person besides you that fully accepted that something had happened. Even at Great Lakes Magical, the mediwitches had never seen or heard of anything like what I was experiencing."

Emma had a look of patience and worry now. "What did you find out?"

Diana took up the tale again. "I asked the girls if there was something magical that could remove memories. They both had one word answers at the same time: Obliviation."

"Oblivation, Emma, is a spell which removes a memory from being linked to other memories. It is never lost, but all connections that link that memory to other parts of the brain are severed," Fleur now spoke.

"It takes a Master Legilimens, a master mind reader, to re-establish those connections. So I called my father to come and help Hermione."

Emma was becoming impatient with the story. "What did he find out? Did he make the connections? Did he retrieve anything?"

"Emma, Emma, we need you to be calm," Diana now said in a voice she had used many times to take charge of distraught victims and family members. She waited until the other woman had visibly calmed herself before signing for Hermione to begin.

"Mum, it was a memory of a troll attack in my first year at Hogwarts – an attack by a 12 foot troll that nearly killed me." Emma started at hearing the words fall from Hermione's lips.

"A 12 foot troll….." were Emma's only words.

"But that's not the most infuriating part, mum. That old wanker Headmaster decided to obliviate me because it would not be good for the school to find out that I had been attacked by a troll. He must have thought I was unconscious and he overrode the wishes of Madame Pomfrey, the school's mediwitch."

Emma's eyes had become hard and Diana could now feel the waves of anger rising from her. It was time to step in and help Hermione's mother regain some control.

She reached out to her and grabbed Emma's left hand, squeezing hard.

"Emma, Emma, calm yourself. Calm down! Don't make a scene here in the restaurant," she urged more than once.

She could see Emma struggling to reign in her anger. Then Hermione's mother began speaking in a low voice, rage just bubbling beneath the surface. "For ten years, ten years, we've been taking Mione to specialists, therapists, psychologists all to understand what trauma she might have undergone to explain her panic attacks.

"Ten years we've watched our only daughter struggle to overcome these attacks and try to find a memory that wasn't there.

"Ten years we've been told that there was simply nothing there. Sure they calmed down with time, but the attacks were always present.

"Ten years of trying to explain to therapists and psychologists about a private school that we couldn't describe, but having to give enough information for them to even make a diagnosis.

"Only to find out that an old Headmaster wanted to ensure that bad news would not get out about the school.

"If that old fool was here now, I'd strangle him with his long white beard."

By now, Emma had torn a napkin to pieces with her right hand and tears were glistening in her eyes.

Diana kept her hand on Emma's left hand, now squeezing it to show her support. "It was Fleur's father who helped Hermione find the truth. He said that what this old Headmaster had done was illegal and that charges could be pressed against him for breaking the law. But he also said that Hermione had come a long way to healing herself already and that with this knowledge now out in the open, she could talk with others to complete the healing process.  
"I've offered to have my door open at any time for Hermione to talk if she wishes. It is part of my job to help the victims and families of victims of crimes to work through their anger, fears and grief due to crime."

Emma stared into space for several moments and Diana could sense the internal struggle within. She thought she knew what Emma was thinking – turn her and Hermione's back on magic completely and somehow return to a simpler time. Yet that same magic had only a few years ago helped her husband and herself realize a long lost dream – another child. How could they balance the good and the bad of the magical world and its impact on them must be racing through Emma's mind.

However, based on the news from their Gringott's visit only five days before, that was no longer an option. As well, knowing how the relationship between Hermione, Harry and Fleur was progressing, magic would most likely continue to play a role in Hermione's life.

Hermione was watching her mother with fear, yet admiration. She had wanted to castrate Dumbledore when she had relived the memory. How she had managed to hear the conversation between Pomfrey and the old wanker, she did not know, but she wanted to kill the old goat molester. Yet here was her mother, possessed of the same fiery temper as herself, but not exploding at Diana or Fleur.

In a tone devoid of warmth, Emma began speaking. "If this was the bad news, then the good news better make up for some of it," she said.

"Well, if you consider that discovering that your daughter is actually a Lady and is rich beyond the dreams of avarice to be good news, then I suppose that would make up for it," Diana replied with the hint of a smirk.

Emma's eyes widened. "A Lady? With a capital L?"

"Yes, my friend is actually now Lady Hermione Jane Granger Potter, the head of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter," Fleur said with a smile, yet a hint of pride in her friend's new status.

"And Mum, Dad is actually a squib, people from magical lineage," Hermione said with a tremulous smile. She knew that her mother was still at the point of breaking and wanted to give her something solid to hang onto.

Emma visibly swallowed and found herself appreciating the presence of Diana Bennett Wells, an obviously non magical mother who seemed comfortable with all this conversation about magic, trolls and inheritances. Then the last name of the family triggered a memory.

"Mione, Fleur said you are Lady Potter? Wasn't that the name of the young boy who no one could find back at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, Mum. His name was Harry James Potter."

"And now, you're Lady Potter. Care to explain?"

Diana raised a hand to interrupt the interrogation. "Emma, I suggest we first order lunch and I think that I should explain a few things here before you jump all over our new Lady friend here.

"And of course, the story starts with us – and Harry."

At that moment, the waitress returned and the four women quickly made their selections. With salads and glasses of water by their sides, Emma turned again to Diana. "I sense that there is a connection between the missing boy and your son?"

Diana smiled. "I see where Hermione gets her intelligence from. Yes, my son is Harry Jacob Vincent Wells, but his birth name was Harry James Potter."

Emma was now confused. "But then how can Hermione be Lady Potter when Harry is still alive."

"To quote a proverb, it's complicated," Diana replied. "For that I have to tell you a bit of a story."

And she did. They had finished the story of Harry's adoption by the salad and were midway through the main course by the time they reached Halloween 1994.

"From what Fleur and Hermione tell me, it appears that magic considers someone dead when their heart stops beating. I was the first one on the scene and I can assure anyone that Harry's heart had stopped and that he had stopped breathing. I had to perform CPR, and then paramedics with a defibrillator had to bring him back."

Fleur took that moment to interrupt the story. "It is a belief in magic that if the heart stops, then a person is dead and has moved onto the next great adventure."

Emma nodded her understanding. "So Harry ceased being Harry Potter as far as magic was concerned?"

Hermione nodded her head. "Mum, you need to be aware of what happened at Hogwarts during that night." She then proceeded to describe the blood summoning ritual, not neglecting to mention Dumbledore's role in that event.

"Dumbledore again," Emma mentioned to herself. "He seems to play a big role in this story. But how did you find out about being the new Potter head and how do we fit in with this?"

Hermione then took up the tale of how Harry had suggested that she find out about her magical inheritance. "The goblins are trying to reopen magical vaults that have long been dormant so that the money can come back into circulation," she was saying. "So when I underwent the magical inheritance test, I expected to find nothing really. After all, we don't have magical traditions in our family.

"You can imagine my surprise when I found out that Dad is a cousin of Harry Potter seven times removed. With Dad being a Potter, I'm actually a descendant of Godric Gryffindor, one of the four founders of Hogwarts.

"That's the closest thing to magical royalty possible in Britain."

"So what does that mean for you now? And what does that mean for Harry? Is he okay with the fact that his magical inheritance is now yours?" Emma asked.

Hermione smiled at her mother now. Emma could see beyond the surface and sensed that the feelings Hermione was showing for Harry ran a little deeper than that of casual acquaintanceship.

"Mum, first of all, he's not upset at all. He told me that since he never knew that he was a Lord he wouldn't miss it. But he had already done his own inheritance test – and he found out that he was a Lord himself with quite a lot of money and magical items of his own. He is Lord Black, the heir of Sirius Black."

Emma smiled at the situation, then looked at Diana. "So you have a son who is now a magical Lord and has all this money. Is it going to his head?"

Diana now smiled broadly. "No, I still order him to clean up his room and play with his sisters from time to time. And he is still going to CUNY even while he has all this money."

"What is his program of study?" Emma nodded approvingly, being of the belief that intelligence should never be wasted. Then she remembered what Hermione had told her about him a few months ago.

"He's finishing Business Admin this year," Diana replied.

By now dessert was before them and the four women now slowly ate their way through it. Emma was silent as the facts and stories now filtered through her mind. "Diana, girls, you could have told this to Dan as well as just me," she finally began. "Why bring me here and what do you want to do about Dumbledore?"

Hermione was now clearly blushing while Fleur hung her head. Diana was smiling at their discomfiture.

"Well, it's about Harry - and Hermione – and Fleur," she began.

"Wait, I thought there was something possibly between Harry and Hermione. But something between the three of them?" Emma's eyes had gone wide. "Oh my!"

Hermione's face had gone the shade of a beet. "Mum, don't judge things too quickly. We don't know ourselves what's going on. All I know is that I feel that both of them are a part of my life."

Fleur's face actually matched Hermione's in color. "Madame Granger, all I can tell you is that I have been friends with Hermione since she came to Beauxbatons eight years ago and that since I met Harry, I have felt drawn to him. But when Hermione and he met in that library some months ago, I sense that he has been drawn to her as well. Yet, I feel closer to Hermione than ever before even while I know that Harry is drawn to both of us."

Emma looked to Diana who only shrugged her shoulders. "Look, Emma, I'm as lost as you are about all this. I've got a small gift of my own – I'm an empath. I can sense bonds and connections. When I met Fleur for the first time, I felt a connection between Harry and her. Then a few months later, I met Hermione and there it was, a similar connection.

"And when the three of them are together, I sense things are right with them. Does that make sense? I'm not sure. Fleur's father Sebastien feels the same."

Emma looked at the two young women. She had always had a soft spot for Fleur since finding out that the older teen had taken a genuine interest in helping Hermione adapt to a new school. She and Dan had even journeyed to the Delacour chateau in the south of France to enjoy the nearby beaches and had come to appreciate Sebastien and Apolline as well. But a threesome?

"It's a good thing that your father is not here, Mione," she finally said. "I don't know how he would have taken all this news today."

Diana smiled at Emma's comment. Hermione had judged her mother correctly. She would not initially accept the growing relationship, but Emma wanted her daughter to be happy and this had the greatest chance of making that happen. However, they had other issues to discuss as well.

"Emma, I would like to invite you and Dan to meet Harry and the rest of the family," she decided. "We however have secrets that we have to keep and we would need you to swear to keep these secrets. These secrets have nothing to do with magic or the magical world – but many lives depend on them and the work that our community and family do."

Emma was nodding her agreement. "If your family are anything like the other people that Hermione has been speaking about, you appear to be good people to know. I will speak to Dan about setting up a time – hopefully as soon as possible."

"How about this Saturday evening?"

"Too soon – we have a dinner date with some friends." Her face then lit up with an idea. "Mione, why don't you and your friend Harry come over before the dinner date? Your father could get to meet this young man that he has been hearing so much about – and with our dinner guests being people from the DA's office, we could ensure that your father does not get too carried away with threatening Harry before they arrive.

"Besides, if we share the news before a dinner engagement, your father will not have the time to fully react and we will have an opportunity to discuss things when he will be a bit calmer."

Diana was a bit curious now. "Who are your friends from the DA's office?"

"Joe and Jenny Maxwell, the Manhattan DA."

She didn't understand the slight smile that the other three women shared with one another before the coffee meeting broke up.

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**A/N:Yes, we know. Harry is safe for another chapter at least. Daniel Granger will not have the opportunity to do in this chapter what so many fanfics have him doing – threatening our young hero. But the final characters are just about in place and we can expect events to move quickly soon. As well, dust off your memories as you think what big event will be occurring shortly in the city of New York – the date is now early April 2001.**


	20. Chapter 19: Meeting the Parents II

**A/N: Ladies and gentlemen! It is with great pleasure we present the news that this sory is off hiatus and being composed under our pens! So here, without further ado, we give you the next chapter!**

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Chapter Nineteen: Meeting the Parents II

It was obvious to Harry that Hermione's parents were money if one could judge by the houses of their neighbors. Their home appeared to be somewhat understated in comparison with some of the area homes, but the long driveway and broad expanse of the yard around them suggested to Harry that a dental practice run by two dental surgeons was a very paying proposition.

He had been somewhat uncomfortable on the trip up – it marked the first time he had been in an automobile for some time and once he and Hermione had left the city, he found the open stretches of country too much of a contrast with the built up city.

Of course, Hermione's choice of car reflected her practical personality with the silver 2000 VW Jetta diesel being both economical and not flashy. He had to admit that she handled the car well – his impression of magicals in the U S suggested that they were comfortable with technology and blended in well with the larger mundane population.

However, no drive with Hermione was free of her comments and advice in trying to prepare Harry to meet her parents. The conclusions he had drawn were mixed – her mother, Emma, would be quietly rooting for him, but her father would try to play the enraged and protective father card.

"Explain to me how your mother would be rooting for me again, Hermione," he asked her, a bit of nervousness peeking through.

Hermione smiled at his hint of nerves. "Because, Harry, you are the first young man I have ever brought home. Because you are the cause of so much good coming into my life including my admission to Columbia Med School and the weekly sessions with Dr. Peter. And because, while you are a wizard, you are still studying at a mundane university with every intention of continuing to live in both worlds."

"Then, if your Mom feels that way, why would your dad want to threaten me?"

Hermione laid a calming hand on his hand even as she moved the car in front of the far garage door beside the 2001 silver BMW. "Because you are the first man I have brought home and because Dad feels that it is part of the time honored tradition of fathers to threaten their daughter's potential suitors.

"I would imagine that if we have children that you would act the same way if someone attempts to take our daughter away."

It was the occasional lapse of Hermione into expressions such as this that warmed Harry's heart. These lapses told both he and Fleur that Hermione was moving into acceptance of the strange yet friendly relationship that had been building between the three since the first awkward prophecy by Erin. No further words had been said by his youngest sister, but it was obvious to all around Hermione that she had taken his mom's words to heart and was allowing the dynamics of the relationship to just develop.

At least she was now thinking of an 'us'.

"Do I address you in any special manner, my Lady?" he quipped as Hermione stopped the car and removed the keys from the ignition.

The bushy haired witch just smirked at his comment, then waited for him to exit the car. She remained seated until he got the message and went to the driver's side to open her door.

"Now you're getting it," she smiled. "Even if you are a Lord and I am a Lady, you are the male and you must always show me courtesy.

"Mum and Dad would expect that."

Harry just shook his head. "I will gladly open doors, my Lady, but if you've noticed, there are few doors in the world below."

The door to the main house abruptly opened and Harry could see a tall, bushy haired man and a woman who almost looked like an older version of Hermione stand in front of their home.

"Your parents I take it?"

Hermione only smiled. "Oh yes, Harry. It looks like Dad wants to get the preliminary tortures started early – or Mum decided to push him out of his den. Normally he likes to read dental journals as relaxation."

Nervously, Harry moved towards the older couple now carefully looking him over and then he felt a small feminine hand slip into his. Somehow, that simple gesture removed some of his stress and, straightening his shoulders, he walked down the sidewalk to the elder Grangers.

"Mum, Dad, this is my friend – and companion - Harry Jacob Vincent Wells. Harry, these are my parents – Daniel Granger and Emma Granger."

Daniel Granger's grip threatened to break Harry's hand, but he only tightened his own grip. There were advantages to the occasional tour of duty with the tunnel repair gang – one's hands grew calloused and strong while moving rocks and timbers. Still, he didn't want to press too hard – he just wanted to make a point.

Dan relinquished Harry's hand after a few seconds while the two women embraced and then smiled at the obvious display of testerone. "Enough beating of the chest, Dan?" Emma said with a smile indicating she had missed nothing. Hermione only gave Harry an answering smirk.

Emma turned to open the door to the house even as Hermione looked around for her pesky, younger brother. Catching no sign of him, she turned to her father. "Dad, where's Ben?"

"With a sitter tonight, Princess," he replied. "With our guests coming tonight and this chance to finally meet this young man who has been monopolizing your time, we wanted to clear the deck and just have some time with you, Harry and then our guests.

"Besides our guests have suggested that we go out to the city tonight. Something about seeing a unique place."

"Does that mean we're invited too, Dad?" Hermione asked, a hint of a tease in her voice. To Harry, this was a side of Hermione he had never seen before – a teasing, playful side. She knew as well as he that they would be part of the evening's events – after all, her parents' guests were his unofficial uncle and aunt and they had plans to escort them down their own rabbit hole trip.

Here Dan looked a bit confused and turned back to Emma. "According to your mother, your inclusion was a last minute item. Care to explain?"

She only smirked back at her dad. "Why don't we wait and see?"

By now, she and Harry had followed her father to the living room where Emma had already placed the usual tea and biscuits – while the Grangers had been in the U S for some time, they still fell back on their British teatime customs. Harry was anticipating that the inquisition would start soon – and he was not disappointed. It was Emma who opened the discussion.

"Harry, I must say that it is a pleasure to finally meet you. You seem to have become a fixture in our daughter's life since last October which makes it about six months and I am pleased to see that you could make the time to come out and spend some time with some middle aged dentists," she said in a pleasant tone. Unspoken, but clear to Hermione was the message that her mother would have wanted to have made this acquaintance much earlier.

Harry looked at Hermione with some confusion. "Why wouldn't I want to meet my girlfriend's parents?"

The only hint of Hermione's surprise was the almost imperceptible sucking in her breath. While they had been dancing around the term for some time, this was the first blatant admission on the part of either of the two young people of their growing relationship. However, she did not withdraw her hand from his and Emma noted both that and her daughter's flushed cheeks. So, things were definitely moving in a romantic direction, she concluded.

It was Dan who broke the silence next. "Harry, tell me – tell us about your plans and your current studies." The formal questioning had begun.

Harry laid out his plan to both of Hermione's parents and Dan found himself being impressed by the ease in which the young raven haired man was speaking about a career in managing a family trust and in working with both the goblins in the magical world and with Wall Street financiers for the betterment of his community.

"When my father's first love died, she left a significant insurance policy and significant assets in the forms of stocks, bonds, notes and property in the hands of the leader of the community," he was saying, unaware of how his eyes were glowing with his passion. "Catherine Chandler's will stated that while the principal was to be protected, the income was to be spent to meet the needs of the poorer members of our - that is my father and grandfather's community."

Dan found himself becoming hooked by this community and its vision. "And that community is where?"

"You will actually find out this evening, Dr. Granger. Your evening guests are members of that community and they have indicated it would be good for you to see where your daughter has been spending so much of her time."

Dan looked visibly startled. "You know our guests closely? I wasn't sure that there was a strong connection even when Joe said you and Hermione might be accompanying us this evening. I just figured that Joe wanted to meet more people – he's turned into quite the politician."

Harry only smiled. "My mother works for Joe Maxwell and Joe and Jenny Maxwell became my sponsoring 'uncle and aunt' when I was formally adopted and welcomed into the community.

"But I would rather not say much more about the community – I don't want to spoil the surprise for both you and your wife for this evening. However, if I can say anything, I would simply ask you to have an open mind and to not judge a book by its cover until you have seen the whole community."

Emma had some idea of the surprises that her husband would encounter later that evening and wanted to steer the conversation away from Harry's community and towards some of the other issues that she had encountered earlier in her meeting with Harry's mother.

"Hermione, could you please share with your father what you uncovered when you went to the Gringott's New York branch a few weeks ago? As well, what you discovered earlier this week?

"Dan, this is important and we can return to learning about Harry's world a little later this evening."

Hermione swallowed and Dan noticed that Harry gave her a comforting squeeze with his hand which appeared to lend her strength. These two have it bad, he decided, but decided to hold off more inquisitorial questions until Hermione had shared her news.

"Dad, I have some news – some good and some bad. Which do you want to hear first?"

Her tone was serious and Dan would quickly see that this was no ordinary discussion. "Well, I guess that I'm much like your mother in that I prefer to get the bad news out of the way first before getting to the good news. So lay it on me."

He was startled when Emma grabbed his hand and whispered quietly in his ear, "Don't overreact, Dan. It was a shock to Hermione earlier this week and I don't think she has had the opportunity to fully digest it yet herself.

"Besides, there is nothing that we can do right now about it. But we have allies now."

Dan was bemused. What was going on, he wondered. Emma usually only played the hand holding card when it was news that would ignite the famous Dan Granger temper and they had had few opportunities for that since they had come to the U S.

"Dad, I found out why I was having those panic attacks after my first year at Hogwarts and all those times since." Hermione began, interrupting his thoughts.

"I was obliviated – my memories wiped – of an attack I suffered from a 12 foot mountain troll."

She said it calmly, but Harry knew Hermione well enough by now to realize that she was just barely keeping a lid on her emotions. He tightened his grip on her hand and moved to place his arm around her shoulder, his desire to support her through this obvious to Emma and even Dan. She seemed to take strength from him and continued with the tale of a terrified and bullied young girl of 12 on a Halloween night in Scotland.

Dan felt waves of fury wash over him as Hermione moved to conclude her tale. The old bastard – the old fool. Who gave him the right to wave his stick and just remove a memory from his daughter's mind – and then leave her to cope with the effects for years after. He could not recount how many hours he had spent with therapists, with psychologists, beside his daughter's bed holding her hand and trying to comfort a very distraught teenage girl – only to find out now that it was due to the attempt by a headmaster to preserve the reputation of his school.

"I'll kill him," he told her, Emma and Harry as Hermione had finally finished speaking, her hands shaking, but her voice and eyes resolute. "I'll kill that old fool."

It was Harry who actually took a position of leadership in the discussion. "Dr. Granger, you'll have to stand in line for that privilege. There are many others ahead of you who would love to perform that pleasure. Hermione is not the only person affected by the decisions of the old fool of Hogwarts.

"My mom thinks that Hermione is on the mend and the fact that she can finally put a name to what has happened to her will be a very positive thing."

Dan turned his eyes to Harry, scrutinizing him carefully. "It appears from Hermione's story that we owe your family and more specifically your mum and yourself a number of debts of gratitude. Her help in diagnosing this phenomena; your reference to Dr. Peter Alcott and your invitation to Hermione to come meet him: these are big things in my book and I will not quickly forget them."

He then smiled wickedly at Harry before winking at both Hermione and Emma. "I know that I am angry right now, but it is not directed towards you. Instead, I was going to tease you a bit – put you through your paces a bit more and find out what kind of man you are. But I believe I have seen enough to tell me that you care for my daughter and she cares for you.

"Plus you have already done so much for her and by extension for this family. How can I stand in the way of whatever makes my princess happy?"

Hermione's eyes shone with tears, but the smile on her face was radiant even as Emma gave her husband a squeeze of her own promising him some 'personal' time later. Harry only looked at Dan with surprise. "You mean I don't have to wrestle you for Hermione or take up insane sports?" he said with a slight twinkle.

Dan raised up a warning hand. "No getting out of that one, Harry. A man is not a man until he has learned to walk the walk – with a set of golf clubs along 18 holes. No, Harry, that rite of initiation is still before us."

Then he turned back to Hermione. "However, princess, you said you have good news as well?"

Hermione now blushed red as she tried to figure out how best to tell her father that she and Harry were 'more connected' than she had originally thought. Might as well just jump right in, she thought to herself.

"Do you remember that missing wizard who failed to turn up the first year I went to Hogwarts, mum, dad?"

Emma could see where she was going. "A Potter or something. He was some famous wizard."

Hermione was glad that she had discussed the situation with her mother already and that her mother had seemed to be able to recall all the key important details of her years at Hogwarts. "Yes, he was Harry Potter and he had been the only survival of a battle between his parents and a dark lord. The British magical world called him The-Boy-Who-Lived."

As she was speaking Dan began making connections. It might have been a coincidence, but it did not appear to be that Harry, her daughter's boyfriend, and Harry Potter shared the same first name.

"Princess, is your Harry actually Harry Potter?"

Trust her father to demonstrate that he was no slouch in the intelligence department himself.

"Yes, Dad, Harry was the missing wizard. But he died in 1994 - and then he came back."

Dan was stunned. The nonchalant way Hermione had said her words took him a few seconds to sink in. He looked askance at Harry, his eyebrows raised in a questioning glance.

Harry did not disappoint. "I was dead then. But I'm better now," he said in a deadpan expression.

Hermione and Emma could not resist laughing at Harry's comment and Dan's stunned expression. She then gave both her parents a short summary of Harry's adventures from leaving Britain to the events of 1994 and beyond.

"So you are dead to the world of magic as Harry Potter and are instead this Lord Black, and the head of the Wells family as far as magic is concerned," Dan asked, trying to wrap his head around the situation.

"That's correct, Dr. Granger," Harry replied.

"But it gets weirder than that Dad," Hermione continued. "The goblins have been encouraging all British muggleborn witches and wizards to undergo inheritance tests to find out if they are reappearances of old wizarding family lines.

"And they found out something about me - and you."

Dan found the suspense was killing him. "Well what did they find?"

Hermione just smiled for a moment and then held Harry's hand tighter. "You, I, and Harry are all related. And as I am the closest magical relative to Harry, I am now the new Head of the Potter Family.

"That makes me Lady Hermione Granger-Potter and Ben the new Heir to the Potter Family."

Of all the news that Hermione could have shared, this was the last thing Dan could have expected.

"How closely related?" were the first words out of his mouth.

"Eight generations back, Dad. Thus, even if Harry and I get hitched, there would be no problems."

Dan was trying to get a full grasp of the entire situation. "So you and I by default are related to this Harry Potter and if you two tie the knot, then Harry would be marrying into his own family?"

"You got it, Dad! I guess that makes me a Lady.

"And the funny thing is - I cannot declare this status to the non magical world because they would not accept that title or that source of funds. Thus I still qualify for some financial aid when I start Columbia in the fall."

Dan just laughed. "So my daughter is a Lady of the magical world and she is the heir and now head of the magical family from which her boyfriend comes. This is rich, Hermione, really rich."

He then gave Harry a more serious look. "What is your view on the separation of the magical world from the non-magical world, Harry? One of the biggest things I and Hermione's mother have been concerned about is the threat that the magical world would take Hermione away from us - and one of the greatest reliefs for us has been Hermione's willingness to work in both magical and non-magical situations.

"We love our daughter and would hate to lose her."

Harry gave Dan an answering smile of his own. He looked at Hermione who gave him a slight nod and then turned back to both Dan and Emma. "Drs Granger, I have no more interest and intention of leaving the non-magical world than Hermione does. She is pursuing her medical degree to match her Healer training at her magical school: I am combining both goblin financial training and my Business Admin program at CUNY.

"My family knows that I am magical - they know that Hermione is magical and that both my youngest sibling and Hermione's good friend Fleur are also magical. But we are very much at home in both worlds and we will continue to maintain this.

"We are committed to walking down our own path - that's why we are here to share our evening with you."

Both Dan and Emma felt emotion well up within as they heard the young peoples' words. This sounded as music to their ears. It was obvious to both of them that the relationship between Harry and Hermione was a strong one and to hear both of them share the same commitment to ensuring their presence in her parents' lives was a real relief.

Emma suddenly thought of the last piece of news and felt that the thought his princess was in a relationship that included one more woman would be too much for Dan to handle this evening. It also appeared that both Harry and Hermione had a built in sense of how much to share with her father and the topic of Fleur would remain for another day.

At that moment, the doorbell rang and Dan glanced at the clock. "Goodness, I guess time was flying by much faster than I was aware of. it must be Joe and Jenny."

Dan exited the room and returned with two very familiar faces for Harry and now Hermione. Joe, now with several gray hairs peppering his dark brown hair, looked with fondness on his unofficial nephew.

"Dan, I forgot the handcuffs and the uniforms back at the office," he said, winking at Harry but turning his attention to Hermione's father.

Dan quickly added his own rejoinder. "I was counting on you to save my daughter from young men who try to take advantage of her good nature. Can you press charges later?"

Harry only gave a snort at the older males' antics and comments even as the women began conversations on their own. The two groups talked for a few moments before Joe looked at his watch and turned a questioning gaze to Dan. Dan caught his stare and nodded, rising to get he and Emma's coats even as Hermione and Harry also rose. Moments later, they were in Dan's large SUV with Joe giving directions and the women quietly talking.

Dan was the first to break the silence about their final destination. "Harry tells me that you are taking us to see his community, Joe. You also suggested that we should dress casually for tonight, but hiking boots?

"Where are we exactly going, Joe?"

Joe couldn't help chuckling at Dan's questions. "Yeah, I will admit that hiking boots to an evening in the city doesn't exactly make senses. But then we are not going exactly to the city.

"We're going underneath it."

Both Dan and Emma turned surprised eyes to Joe and Jenny even as Harry and Hermione tried to hide their smiles. Figured that Joe, being a lawyer, knew how to pace his conversation and his dramatic delivery. Harry silently counted off the seconds before one or the other older Grangers would say something.

It was three seconds before Dan sputtered out a question. "Underneath it?"

Joe turned back to Harry and he knew he was up at the plate now. Who better to talk about his world and its history than he, the grandson of the Founder and the son of its incoming leader.

"Drs Granger, the world I call home is called the World Below and it grew out of the vision of two men, one of whom is my grandfather, the same Dr Wells who is working with Hermione now."

Harry did not know it, but he was a natural story teller and his words and passion began to captivate all the people in the SUV even as Joe was driving into the suburbs at the north end of the city.

"Grandpa was a doctor who had opposed atomic testing, telling all who would listen that there would be medical consequences of test participant's exposure to radiation. He was blackballed, forced to watch his engagement to the love of his life destroyed and literally forced to see his life destroyed.

"What he did, what many people in this city have done since the founding of the city, was to return to the tunnels underneath the city. He came first to escape persecution and to find a safe place to hole up for a while, but then discovered that there were other people in the tunnels - people who could use the services of a doctor such as him and who didn't care about his political beliefs.

"People have used these tunnels before - some for bad purposes such as hiding underground loot, or gangs seeking places of safety; some for purposes of seeking protection and a place to stay, to come away, to rebuild after their lives have been destroyed up top. It was the latter goal that first animated my grandfather to discover and then build the community that we call The World Below."

As the miles whizzed by and Joe began navigating the SUV towards the city's centre, Harry told his audience of the early struggles of the underground community to keep true to a focus of helping people in need and of becoming a place of safety and welcome for those who had become outcasts of the world above.

"Everything changed once they found my father. He ...was special, unlike anything or anyone that the community had seen before. He became a rallying point, something around which our community could coalesce and the mission of our world became that of a safe harbor in a storm for those who were down and out, a place of welcome for those who were outcasts from the larger world above.

"People who came and spent time with us were healed, built up and restored and many returned to the world above, desiring to help others and at the same time desiring to help us continue and expand our work.

"We call these people 'Helpers'. Uncle Joe, Aunt Jenny and Dr. Peter Alcott are some of our most prominent helpers."

As both Dan and Emma listened to this story, they felt themselves strangely moved. A secret society, living in the shadow of the city above, who had become a place of refuge for those who were rejected or hurt by the society around them - their respect for Hermione's friend Harry was growing by the moment and they felt proud that their daughter was now learning and playing a role in this world.

"Things changed in 1987," Harry continued. "Things changed when Catherine Chandler came."

Joe took over the conversation from there. "Harry never met Cathy. But she changed everything for Harry's father - and for the World Below. She changed my life, Jenny's, and Vincent's."

Joe told the story of the young debutante who had been on a path of ease and social prominence until the fateful April evening when she was attacked and left for dead in Central Park.

"Vincent rescued her, brought down to his father, Dr. Wells, where they stitched her up and saved her life. Seeds were planted that day and Cathy's life was completely changed. I sometimes wonder if it was a survivor's guilt pushing her or something like that. But a connection had been forged between Vincent and Catherine, a bond that became the stuff of legend among dwellers below and Helpers above.

"Cathy came to work for me - I was just the assistant DA at that time and I was stunned to see someone of her wealth and position wanting to come work with the rest of us grunts among the worst types of New York. Yet, she was dogged, determined, brave - and lit by a fire that encouraged the rest of us to reach a little deeper and go a little farther. And she changed lives - mine, her best friend Jenny, and Vincent.

"I didn't know about Vincent or the World Below at that time, but she threw herself constantly into situations that threatened her life - all for the sake of justice or of helping someone in need. And Vincent came through to rescue her time and time again.

"And it was I who helped set her up for her kidnapping and death."

Joe swallowed at this point as Jenny reached ahead and squeezed her husband's shoulder. "You didn't know, Joe, you didn't know."

"I know, I know. But if I hadn't had handed her the book, the whole sequence would never have happened. And Cathy might still be alive. And she would still be with her son."

It was Emma who interrupted Joe. "Her son?"

Joe nodded, even as he turned the SUV into the concrete parking lot adjacent to he and Jenny's apartment.

"Yes, just before she was kidnapped, Cathy had managed to get pregnant with Vincent's son. According to Vincent, she never got to see him for more than an instant before she died. She never got to know him - all because I handed her that blasted diary."

"And I would never have really gotten to know you and Diana would have never have been assigned to Cathy's case and Diana and Vincent would never have met...and Harry would never have been adopted by Diana and Vincent ... and so on," Jenny broke into what was obviously a familiar litany. All the other occupants in the SUV could see that Joe had never forgiven himself for the events of that day.

"Don't beat yourself Joe. It was tragic, but everything did turn out for the better in the end."

So, swallowing hard, Joe told the story of Catherine Chandler's kidnapping, the desperate but separate searches for her by both Vincent and Joe, the fatal discovery of Cathy dead in her own apartment and Joe's desperate search for answers which had led him to rope Diana Bennett in as the lead investigator of her death.

"Those were dark days for the World Below and for those of us who loved Cathy," Joe continued. "But as Jenny said, there were significant changes that resulted from it.

"I got to know about the world below; I met Jenny and eventually despite her better judgment, convinced her to become my wife; Vincent rescued his son and met Diana, and Diana shot the bastard who had kidnapped Cathy in the first place.

"And the irony was that it was with Cathy's own gun, one that she had lent the World Below in a time of crisis before."

Joe had parked the SUV by now and had handed the keys to Dan, but no one was making a move to leave the vehicle as the story had become too gripping to end. Joe paused and turned to Harry.

"And this is where Harry knows more than I."

Harry took up the tale. "Most people in the World Below felt that with Catherine dead, Vincent would never love again - that this was a once in a lifetime love and that he would raise my sibling Jacob alone with the help of our community.

"But nobody took my mom into account. She is an empath and she had somehow forged links with my dad that neither of them were aware of at first.

"Of course, it didn't help that he's an empath too."

Harry briefly filled in his audience with the story of the strange courtship of Vincent and Diana, a courtship which had helped the community draw back together again after the trauma of the Catherine Chandler kidnapping, murder, search for her son and finally her son's restoration.

"My mom took to Jacob like he was her own - but she has a big heart and underneath that rough police exterior is a very caring woman," Harry said, the pride and love evident in his voice. Emma matched this account with the picture she had formed of Diana when the two had met and nodded her head silently. Yes, the woman was much as Harry described.

"And so, after three years of dancing around each other, I appeared and somehow pushed them to do what they had been thinking about for some time anyway - they got together, got married - and voila, I got adopted into a growing family.

"Jacob's now my younger brother and he annoys me as any younger brother does; Cathy is my oldest sister - she's empathic like Mom and Dad, and now we have Erin, a budding witch and my youngest sister."

Silence descended upon the passengers in the SUV before Joe opened the door and stepped out. "Time to get going down the rabbit hole, Dan and Emma. The young people will show us the way - I still occasionally get lost down there."

Harry couldn't help laughing at his 'uncle's' comment. "It's not your directions I worry about, Uncle Joe. It's your communication skills."

Joe chuckled in turn. "Well, I still haven't got all the letters and words down pat when I'm trying to communicate on the pipe network. I think I'm doing alright."

Dan and Emma looked at the two bantering men inquisitively. "We use underground pipes to communicate with one another," Harry began. "It uses a combination of Morse Code and other short forms for common contractions and so on.

"Messages can carry quite well for great distances, but it can be lost in the chatter from other people as well. Sort of like the old party lines for telephones.

"Joe and Hermione have challenges with the code although Hermione is catching on pretty fast," he continued, a broad smile on his face. "Joe's last message suggested that he was sleeping with goats while Hermione's last message said that she was bringing down a llama.

"The children of Down Below are still waiting for the llama."

Smiles could be seen all round although Emma thought Hermione's face might have been tinged with a blush of pink. Still Harry's humor was not meant as mean, but as a gentle tease from boyfriend to girlfriend and she thanked the heavens anew that Harry was turning out to be the kind of friend he was to her oldest child.

By now, the party of six were walking towards a nondescript building and Harry turned to explain. "Entrances to our world are scattered throughout the city, but we take care to keep those entrances secret except for those in need or for our own helpers. One of our helpers owns this building and we can gain access to my world through their basement."

Once they had entered, Harry let the party down the stairs into the basement. No one stopped or questioned them although one of the residents gave a wink and nod to Harry as he passed them by. Once in the cellar, he touched a place on the wall and a panel slid open, revealing a brick tunnel on the other side.

"Drs Granger, welcome to the world of the rabbit hole - at least that is what we used to lure Hermione down here. Fleur had no understanding of the story as she is French."

It was Dan Granger who interrupted. "Fleur as in Fleur Delacour?"

Hermione nodded. "She is the one who introduced Harry to magic again after having been so long away from it. So she and her family have been here many times - and they helped Harry's community to get special hybrid community status under the American Secretary of Magic."

"Special hybrid status?" Emma asked. Then she turned to Joe and Jenny. "You know about Harry being magical?"

Joe nodded in turn. "Once Harry had connected with the Magical FBI and more specifically an old colleague, then I was brought into the loop. I had already learned that Harry was magical - once the Delacours had given an explanation to Harry's parents, it was not hard to look back on some displays of Harry's magical abilities and then understand what they really were."

"What is this special hybrid status?" Emma repeated.

"It's a recognition that a community has special characteristics or abilities that allow magicals and non-magicals to live and work together," Harry said. "We have many gifts in our world - both my parents are empaths as you may recall, I am a wizard, my sister is a witch - and we also rely heavily on keeping our own world secret except for those in need - so it was easy to convince the American magical authorities that we were no risk to exposing magic to the wider world. And voila - we have a hybrid community."

All six people by now had gathered in the brick tunnel and Harry had tapped the wall, shutting the panel behind him. To Dan and Emma, it seemed indeed as if they were beginning a magical journey and Harry's next action did not dispel this impression. He picked up a piece of pipe near the wall and began banging on an overhead pipe in a rapid, practiced hand of short, sharp staccato bursts. Moments later, they could hear banging in reply.

Seeing Dan and Emma's looks of surprise, he explained. "I was letting our sentries at this point of entry know that the Granger Maxwell party have arrived and are on their way to the Hub. This also lets those who will be sharing our meal tonight know that we are arriving as well."

They began walking down the brick tunnel and soon came to a crossway. Here Harry and Hermione each picked up a torch and moved to opposite ends of the group ensuring that they would have sufficient light along the way.

"Drs. Granger, we would ask you to please stay in the middle of our group as there are some treacherous spots here and there. We're not worried about Uncle Joe and Aunt Jenny - they've been here often enough to know their way around - or to bang away if they get lost," Harry began.

"We're about two miles out by foot from the Hub, but we may take a little longer to show you some of the wonders of our world. All I would ask you to do is to suspend your disbelief - I am fairly sure that any of the questions that you might have have already been asked by Hermione."

They proceeded down well lit tunnels for several minutes before they entered a gallery of paintings. "Elizabeth, one of our permanent dwellers, has decided to record the stories of our world and its inhabitants here, on the walls of this cavern, where the conditions are just right to preserve the paints."

Dan and Emma were speechless as they saw the variety of faces and activities carried on in this underground world. People putting up tunnel walls, building furniture, telling stories - many wearing colorful costumes and with faces absent of the tension of the rat race above. Elizabeth's attention to detail was beyond compare and there was a special vibrancy attached to the paintings along the walls. It was there that she noticed a face which appeared again and again - that of a lion faced man with features that could spread fear and terror, yet eyes which pierced the soul and shone forth with humanity. The artist must have a great imagination, she decided, to insert an obviously mythical character into the goings on of the world below.

She also saw a petite woman who was in several activities and who was often with the lion man. Then she saw Diana and someone who could only be her daughters engaging in an activity with children - Harry was obvious in the background giving his support to a strawberry blond younger boy and Emma thought that was probably his younger sibling, Jacob.

Jenny took this moment to whisper in Emma's ear. "She has to be one of the most gifted authors in the city and she has really caught the essence of my former friend Catherine. She is that petite woman you have been checking out."

"What is the significance of the lion man who appears several times throughout these murals?" Emma asked quietly.

Jenny looked at her friend with some sympathy. "All i can ask of you Emma is to have an open mind and perhaps have in your mind the story of Beauty and the Beast. You will find out soon enough."

A sudden thought crossed Emma's mind and a suspicion began to grow. Could the lion faced man be Vincent? She looked at her daughter carefully - Hermione would know all the players here, yet there was no hint of nervousness or fear with her. In fact, she gave off a sense of peace - as if she were coming home.

They had left the galleries behind and the next several minutes were taken up with awesome sights and sounds - the Chamber of Voices where it seemed every word being uttered in the city above was being spoken; the great spiral staircase where both Dan and Emma appreciated the wisdom of keeping them in the center of the group; the great waterfall where Harry told stories of young boys challenging one another to jump off into a cold pond at its base; and then finally, the library.

Once Emma's eyes fell upon the collection of books, she could feel their clarion call. Old leather bindings calling out to be loving stroked and opened; books left open scattered throughout the tables as if they had been put down gently and would be picked up again as old friends. - she stopped in sheer wonder at the sight of this temple of learning and records.

And then a soft voice which caused the hair on the back of her neck to rise up, but which promised so much more, spoke.

"You should have warned us, Miss MediWitch, that your mother inherited your same disease. Should we lock up our tomes now?" The voice was warm, yet reached down into her very being with the promise of something.

Emma turned with the others to see Diana smiling in welcome and a collection of other individuals. But she only had eyes for a tall lion faced man with intense blue eyes who radiated warmth and acceptance.

Surprising even herself and definitely Dan, she walked up fearlessly to the tall man, her hand extended in greeting. "Vincent, I presume. A distinct pleasure."

Vincent himself was at first surprised. There was no fear in this woman - even before he took her hand carefully, he could sense her acceptance and respect. No, this woman's reaction went a long way to explaining her daughter's initial reaction at meeting him in the library and the subsequent ease with which she had fit into the community of Down Below.

Her husband was much more nervous, but he did not move to stop his wife - Hermione had been right, Vincent decided. She had argued that her parents would perhaps have initial reservations, but they had already been exposed to the strangeness that was the magical world and seeing Vincent and the World Below would be no different.

And if Hermione was right about this, then perhaps the World Below were gaining two new helpers.

"Yes, I am Vincent and you must be Miss Mediwitch's mother, Dr. Emma Granger.," he said , his welcome clear. "You have already met my wife Diana and the three younger children gathered around her are Catherine, my eldest daughter, Erin, my youngest and Jacob, Harry's younger brother."

Jacob proved at this point that he was not shy. Looking at Harry, he stuck out his own chest and said, "But definitely the better looking of the two Wells brothers."

Laughter erupted at his comment and before everyone knew it, the barriers had broken down. After introductions were made, all were milling around talking and enjoying some tea that had been laid out on the tables in the library.

Emma and Dan could see that everyone there had genuine affection for Hermione although they did not understand the nickname 'Miss MediWitch.' When she asked her daughter about it during a quiet moment, Hermione only colored slightly then reassured her an explanation would follow later.

All too soon, supper was being served in the kitchen common area and other members of the community below came and made their introductions to the Grangers. For both Dan and Emma, the obvious welcome they were receiving contrasted sharply with the professional reserve with which they had been received upon setting up their practice in the city. This community's welcome was personal and genuine.

It was during the pause between the main course and dessert that Emma did what she thought later had to either have been divinely inspired or inspired by insanity. The warmth, friendship and welcome had fallen upon a middle aged woman who had left home and hearth for her daughter's safety and finally now, after all these years here, she was accepted not only for her daughter's sake, but also for her own.

She rose suddenly, a glass of water in her hand, and began speaking. "Harry and Joe told my husband and i much about the creation of this world and the trials and challenges you had to face during your journey to this point. And your welcome of ourselves and earlier of my daughter Hermione has touched my heart deeply.

"I would like to propose a toast to the people who have made and continue to make this world possible.

"To Dr. Jacob Wells for his initial vision, a toast. To Vincent and Diana, for the obvious love you have for one another and for your children, including an orphan boy from far away, a toast. And to someone whose presence is here even though we cannot see her - Catherine Chandler - a toast."

She made to sit down, but felt an unseen presence fill the room. It was not threatening- instead it was warm, inviting, and loving. It lingered over Vincent and Jacob, but then surprisingly next touched Diana with what seemed a loving caress.

She suddenly sat down, wondering what had come over her. She was never this demonstrative, never this forward. Yet that loving presence next seemed to touch each person in the group, lingering over Joe and Jenny, Dr. Jacob Wells, but also touching Jacob Junior, then the two girls and finally Harry, Hermione and she and Dan.

A silence now filled the room as a gentle wind blew and then the presence was gone. But each knew they had been blessed and that this dinner meeting was cementing something important.

It was here that Dr. Peter Alcott entered. "Please forgive the lateness of my visit here. Hospital emergencies and all that. But I wouldn't want to miss the chance to meet the parents of my newest medical apprentice and find out who they are.

"We'd like to know if you would want to get a little involved in what is going on down here."

And as the discussions turned to how Dan and Emma could become involved in the life of the community, the last challenge that Emma was worried about Dan facing that evening - the threesome between Harry, Hermione and Fleur disappeared and she decided it would wait for another day and time.

* * *

**A/N: We have tried to give a bit of background as to the world below developed and some of the storyline for the original series back in 1987. Those of us who remember the original series still treasure the gifted story writing, the rich characters and the whole package that was Beauty and the Beast.**

**After one more chapter we move into the more action part of this story. Yes, Dumbledore's meeting with Harry, his attempts to get Harry back into the war and under his control and his final judgment and end are coming up. Much of this has already been written, but some of our characters wanted to have their own say - sort of taking over my new MacBook Air and not releasing it until their story was told.**

**Oh yes, the threesome will emerge soon and we may even have a glimpse into the meeting between all the parents involved.**

**Until next time.**


	21. Chapter 20: Graduation and the Twins

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry these took so long! I kept forgetting about them. But here they are! 2 new chapters for your reading pleasure!**

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Chapter Twenty: Graduations, Plans and The Twins (Not the Weasleys)

June 6, 2001

Starbucks Cafe, New York

The three friends had decided to meet for breakfast before Hermione was to report to the auditorium for donning her formal graduation robes. Of course, their chosen rendezvous was at the familiar Starbucks café.

"'ermione, I am so proud of you and I am glad that this time I can take in your ceremony de finissant, unlike the last one at Great Lakes," Fleur bubbled up in excitement. Harry looked between his two female friends and realized it was hard to tell who was the graduate and who was just the friend.

"I swear Fleur that one would think you are the one graduating rather than Hermione," he said, smiling at his bushy haired friend. She was just soaking in the chance to enjoy graduation ceremonies with two friends – her earlier graduation at Great Lakes had been a low key affair as the only significant relationships she had made had been with the faculty of the school.

Now she was with the two most important people in the world for her outside of her family – and a sudden warmth welled up within. Yes, these were her friends, her closer than friends – her partners, her companions. Listening to the friendly banter of Harry and Fleur, she tried to imagine a life without these two and could not.

She was in love with them both.

She remembered back to the first time she had met the Wells' family and Erin's strange pronouncement. It has hit her hard then, but now the strangeness of their relationship no longer seemed so strange.

It seemed natural – as natural to her as breathing.

She needed the fire and excitement of Fleur – with her, she had a female friend, a confidant, a person closer than any sister could ever be – and a person who would never allow her to settle into a rut.

With Harry, she sensed she had a lover, a protector, a person who believed in her, a person who completed her.

With both, she felt as if two parts of her soul had been reunited with her. She needed them and believed, knew, felt in her bones that they needed her.

Both Fleur and Harry had stopped speaking as a look of indescribable peace and contentment came over their brunette friend. Something had happened to her – something that had implications for them both.

"Hermione?" Harry asked, taking her hand even as Fleur took the other. "'ermione?"

She looked at both of them, their faces mirroring their love and concern at her, mirror images of each other and she felt her heart would burst. "Friends, my friends, my partners, my companions," she began, emotions welling up within and for a moment lost for words.

"I'll do it. I'll do it."

"Do what, my heart?" Harry let slip without thinking.

"Oui, mon amour," Fleur echoed. As she said that, she suddenly realized what she had said and she looked with concern at first Hermione then Harry.

"Pardon-moi, 'ermione." she began, but she was cut short by a shy giggle from Hermione. "Why apologize for what we all are feeling. Erin was right – and I, the woman who believes in logic and reason; the woman who is traditional and risk averse – I'm ready to build a life with both of you."

Fleur said nothing, her heart shining through her eyes and she only reached across the table to her friend - her soon to be more than friend. A feeling washed over both of the young women and something was sealed at that moment between them.

And then they both turned to Harry and embraced him. He relished in the warmth of their arms and the softness of their bodies and found himself throwing an arm around each of them in turn, squeezing them tightly.

Then Hermione jerked back. "Merlin, I forgot. Mum knows that we are becoming an item, but my dad – he'll hit the roof.

"He really likes you, Harry, and I know that he feels comfortable with the possibility of you and I tying the knot. But Dad is a traditionalist and he believes that marriage is a one man one woman affair.

"He's swallowed a lot in regards to the wizarding world, but I think he would draw the line with this.

"What am I going to do?"

Harry released Fleur and placed both of his arms on Hermione's shoulders. "I suggest that we tell him – and the rest of our families as soon as an opportunity presents itself. However, I don't think that today is the day for this – this is your day and this is the opportunity for all of us to celebrate your success, love."

Fleur patted her friend's arm. "Oui, 'ermione. Today is all about you."

Feeling reassured by her friends' support, Hermione glanced at her watch and started. "Merlin, I've got to get up to the library. I'm sorry about this, mes amours, but…."

"We'll walk you back," Harry gallantly got up, grabbing Hermione's left hand in his own and lifting her from her seat.

"Of course we will, mon amie," Fleur said, in grabbing her right hand and together the three left Starbucks together.

June 6, 2001

Evening

Down Below

Dan took a moment from the graduation celebrations to wander into one of the library alcoves. He appreciated these hidden chambers – here one could study or carry on a conversation without disturbing others in the use of the stacks of books.

However, the alcove he had wandered into was already occupied – Peter Alcott and Harry were reviewing what appeared to be city plans on a table in the centre of the small chamber. Harry had just finished writing some notes on the plans when Dan entered.

"I thought you would be with the girls, Harry, not hunkered down looking at old city maps," Dan said.

Harry smiled at the older man. There was obvious pride and happiness in the older man's features – he was the proud father of the graduate after all. But his arrival couldn't have been better timed. Turning to Peter Alcott, he indicated Dan. "Dr Granger has a real sense of timing," he began. "How did he know we were just talking about him?"

Despite having imbibed one glass of whatever the World Below's master chef William had brewed, Dan's mind was still relatively clear. "Talking about me? What about?"

At those words, Peter moved to one side of the table and gestured Dan over to look at the city map. "Harry and I were just discussing a major real estate investment and we thought to ask your opinion, Dan."

The dentist looked down at the city map and saw the map was of a block of brownstones only two to three blocks away from his own clinic. "I know this area," he said after studying the map. "What are you planning?"

Peter turned to Harry. "It's actually his idea – his and the goblins, that is. And I think it is an idea that could benefit you and Emma."

He knew Dan was hooked when Hermione's father pulled up a chair and sat down, looking over the city map more carefully. He then turned to Harry and gave him the sign to continue. "Take it away, Mr. Wells."

Harry looked at Dan apologetically. "I hope it doesn't sound like I was prying Dr. Granger, but I couldn't help overhearing something you had mentioned to Peter the last time you had come down here. Something about rent issues?"

Dan grimaced at Harry's words. "Harry, call me Dan. And yes, you did hear correctly – I was just mentioning to Peter that our landlord is putting pressure on us to accept a new long term lease – at double the rent."

Peter chuckled. "Sharks have real competition here in the city – landlords I think are closely related."

Harry took up his conversation. "Peter had mentioned this to me and the goblins are suggesting that Hermione, I and the Chandler Trust need to some investing – something about too much cash in the portfolio. So Dad, I, Grandfather, Peter, Hermione and Uncle Joe sat down and looked at some of our community's possible needs as investment opportunities – and one answer was real estate."

With that Harry shared a vision of acquiring an entire block of brownstones, allowing for consolidation of professional offices for Helpers, houses of shelter for those wishing to transition from Down Below to the city above and even places to stay for community members.

Dan was impressed with the scope and thoughtfulness of the plan and he began to see opportunities for the clinic. But Harry's next words took him by surprise.

"Peter was thinking of putting his office into one of the brownstones – and inviting you and Emma to share a professional complex with him. He's thinking of the future - something about Hermione."

Peter smiled at the shocked look of Hermione's father. "I'm getting long in the tooth to be carrying on a medical practice. That is why your daughter is such a breath of fresh air for me and Jacob Wells – I would welcome a few years of partnership with Hermione before I will gladly ride off into the retirement sunset and play with my grandchildren."

"You and Emma can have an apartment upstairs from your clinic for when you are too busy or tired to return to your home. There are helpers available to watch Ben if you want to bring him along and if you trust him alone with us Down Below," Harry began again.

His heart was now in his throat – he was still thinking of the declaration the three had made only that morning to one another. It was time to stake at least a claim to Hermione in the eyes of her father while at the same time reassuring him that his intentions to help keep her in the world of her parents was rock solid.

"And Dan, I will admit an ulterior motive for me – and Hermione," he began, his eyes suddenly looking down at the floor while he nervously wrung his hands. "I love your daughter and want to join her life with mine – and we would love nothing better to have our home next to the clinic and you and Emma."

Dan's eyes suddenly misted as the implications of what Harry was saying sank in. He was helping he and Emma to realize the fondest dream of their lives – Hermione would be a part of their lives – indeed an intimate part. The emotions that welled up in his throat left him speechless for a few seconds, but his hand raised Harry's head and looking directly into the younger man's green eyes, drew him into an embrace.

"Harry, that is the greatest gift that you could give Emma and I and I only have one thing to say to you – if our daughter says yes, you have our blessing."

The two men embraced as Peter wiped his own eyes. Then Dan firmed up his shoulders and looked down again at the city map. "I think that is a wonderful idea – but you will not be making the investment alone. We want to invest our own money into it as well – you will be saving us money after all.

"But what about access to here?"

Harry's smile broadened. "The joy of this is that the block we are looking at is only a half mile away from the Hub – you could even avoid the Spiral Staircase."

Dan smiled back at Harry. "Emma would really appreciate that – not that I have any trouble with heights."

"Well then, let's get some more details down," Harry continued and the three men spent a few minutes setting up dates for future meetings before they went to return to the celebrations for Miss Mediwitch as Hermione's new name had taken hold

Late June 2001

Council Chambers Down Below

First Meeting - Parents of a Triad

Emma was afraid. It had been two months since Harry had come into the lives of the Grangers - two months of almost biweekly visits including two learning sessions at the shrine of the 18 hole god; planning meetings in regards to the new real estate project; and two family dinners with Ben, Hermione and Harry. Yet no mention had been made to date of the elephant in the room - the threesome between Harry, Hermione and Fleur.

It was clear to Emma that her husband was definitely in favor of Harry linking up with Hermione. Their shared experience on the golf links had somehow released the bonding mechanism between the two males and Dan had even upbraided Harry for calling him Dr. Granger now and again.

Something as well had happened between Dan and Harry the day of Hermione's graduation - something that had cemented the relationship between the two men. Dan had only shared part of Harry's plan for the brownstones and the professional offices - he had kept much of the details between Harry, Peter Alcott, Hermione and the coucnile of the world below.

He definitely was sitting on something big - if she didn't know better, she would have said that he was only waiting for Harry and Hermione to make their growing relationship official.

But how would he react when he would find out about the threesome. He liked Fleur as Hermione's friend. But while he prided himself on being open to different cultures, he was at heart a traditionalist in the affairs of home and family - and a threesome between Harry, Hermione and Fleur was definitely not traditional.

So the request to meet with Vincent, Diana, Sebastien and Apolline Down Below came as both a shock and a welcome relief - the topic was the relationship between their children. At least the elephant in the room could finally be discussed and better still, Dan could calm down before he decided to confront Harry or Hermione or both.

The route down below was familiar if still intimidating - Emma and Dan both had issues with heights and the spiral staircase on the way to the Hub was enough to give them heart palpitations. Yet all too soon, the couple arrived and found the familiar tea pots of Down Below in the very familiar conference room. It appeared as if the two other couples had just finished an amusing discussion as Emma could see Diana was still holding her sides.

"Never invite Sebastien to tell a French story," Vincent said at Emma's questioning glance. "He has the ability to make even the most boring situation humorous and comical. A true gift."

Emma and Apolline greeted one another in the French manner as befitted two women who had become good friends as a result of their daughters bonding at Beauxbatons. Dan was a bit more restrained - he still was ill at ease in embracing the beautiful French Veela even if he knew Sebastien was not jealous.

"Dan, Emma, c'est un vrai plaisir," Sebastien boomed. "A real pleasure, my friends." Similar, but less effusive greetings were made between the Grangers and the Wells.

After tea was poured, and the Grangers seated, relaxing in their chairs, Dan broke the silence. "We got your message to come down and visit with you all. But I must confess that I am a little confused as to the nature of the visit."

Diana looked at Emma and smiled slightly. Then she looked around at the other parents before turning back to Dan.

"Dan, I'm not sure I know how to bring up the subject of this meeting, but Sebastien contacted us, asking us to invite you and Emma here and saying that it was important for our three children."

"About our three children? Is there a problem with them or a danger that they face?" Dan asked.

Sebastien shook his head. "This meeting is more to help all of us understand what they are becoming and how it will influence the direction of their future lives together."

Emma couldn't miss the emphasis on the word 'together' and hoped that Dan would catch it as well. He did not disappoint.

"Together - as in being together, living together?" His voice was beginning to rise.

"Yes, Dan - together. Our three children are forming a Triad - the first in over 600 years."

Dan didn't know how to react. "For a moment, I thought you were implying that they were moving towards some living arrangement together."

Sebastien had anticipated that at least one of the parents around the table would have difficulty in accepting what was happening to the three young people. He had laid money on it being Dan rather than Emma, especially since Diana had mentioned that Emma was aware of the unusual nature of the three young people's relationship, and he was pleased that he would be collecting from Vincent later that day.

Still, it was time to bite the bullet as the Americans would say and clarify the situation for Dan. "Yes, Dan, we are talking about exactly that - their future lives together.

"Our children - Fleur, Hermione and Harry - are forming a Triad, an ancient Veela magical unit that unites a wizard with a witch and a Veela in a family unit."

Dan's face had gone first white then red as Sebastien's words sunk in. Emma was praying that this would not be a time for a genuine Dan Granger explosion - instead , Dan just slumped in his chair, putting his head in his hands.

"When will it stop - all this strangeness, all of these changes," he began, slowly shaking his head. "Just once I would like to have a normal year where I don't have to worry about evil old Headmasters, adapting to magic, possibly losing my daughter and now my son to this magical world. I thought Harry and Hermione were forming a normal man woman relationship where we could work together, live near each other, get to babysit our grandchildren. In fact, only two and a half weeks ago, he shared his intentions about Hermione with me. Of course, I said that if he and Hermione could come to their own decision that we would add our blessing.

"But you are now asking me to accept just one more strange thing - that my only daughter has to share her husband, the man in her life, with another woman?

"I can't accept this. Not one more thing."

Silence fell on the group as Emma realized the worry and strain that her husband had been under since the revelation that Hermione had nearly been killed by a troll, mind wiped by an old Headmaster, accepting that there was a new man in her life, and now discovering that again his daughter would not experience what for him was a 'normal life.'

Surprisingly, it was Vincent's low voice which broke the silence. "Dan, consider what changes my wife and I, our community here below, have experienced since the entry of Fleur Delacour into our lives only 14 months ago. We discover that there is a world of magic out there; that our son and then our youngest daughter are magical and that my daughter is even a Seer. Then we discover that our oldest son has been the target of manipulation and deceit since he was 15 months old; that he is fated to be in a relationship of three since the first day he rediscovered the magical world.

"We have discovered goblins, creatures of legend - yes, Dan, our lives have been turned upside down."

His voice took on a tone of wonder and even a current of joy. "And yet, consider what we have gained. We have gained the friendship and support of powerful magical individuals such as Sebastien and Alex Mackenzie. We have seen our son renew his commitment to live with us and be a part of our lives rather than return to a world who would gladly embrace him.

"We have gained two daughters or daughters to be - the first a woman of passion and beauty with a heart for our world and for our son and the second a woman of great intelligence, compassion and ability who is well on her way to becoming our future medical caregiver in this world.

"We have gained two new dear friends in yourselves. You add wisdom and compassion to our world, Dan and Emma, and even if your daughter were to leave us, I for one would not look to the severing of this relationship.

"And look what you have and are gaining. Harry's commitment to your daughter is rock solid - as an empath, I can sense the strength of their bond. And as such, both your daughter and Harry are committed to living here in our world, in yours, and in the magical world.

"Our lives have been changed and uprooted yes - but what we have gained is much greater and I see our young people growing and flourishing in this love that they are experiencing between themselves.

"They are writing their own song and we get to play a supporting role."

Tears were running down Dan's face as Vincent finished speaking. "Sometimes, I just need to sit back and consider not only the changes, but the results of those changes. Thank you Vincent - I must apologize for my earlier comments."

Sebastien moved to place his hand on Dan's arm.

"No, Dan, I've known you a long time and magic has touched your family in several positive, but also negative ways. I know the pain of what you and Emma had to deal with during Hermione's two years at Beauxbatons - Fleur shared about the nightmares, the panic attacks and the inability of the school's healers to diagnose, let alone cure her condition.

"I remember well the anguish you felt when you discovered after the fact that your daughter had been put at risk by submersion in the bottom of Black Lake. I too was livid with the Hogwarts Headmaster for his seizure of Gabrielle and his exposing her to unnecessary risk.

"There is no shame in what you are currently feeling - but what I wish to share with you is what they are becoming and how we can play a loving and supportive role in what they will be."

He then took the assembled parents on a history lesson of the Veela and laid out the challenges that Veela had encountered since their earliest days. Sex objects for male magicals; objects of jealousy and fear for female magicals - being a Veela had meant becoming isolated in their own colonies with only rare sorties out into the larger magical world.

"You do not realize how special it was for Fleur to have made the acquaintanceship with Hermione. Looking back, I now see that it was a match made by magic - two lonely outcasts in a school, both intelligent, passionate, caring, and desperately looking for a friend. Of course they would find one another and connect.

"And your daughter had no reason to fear Fleur - she had no man in her life to fear Fleur taking him away - instead, she saw a lonely French girl with whom she could connect and bond.

"Thus the first leg of the Triad was built."

Both Grangers remembered well the lonely tone Hermione's letters had first taken when she had started at Beauxbatons. They were afraid that the experience there would be similar to her years at Hogwarts - excellence academically, but with few or no friends.

Then she had mentioned Fleur and the tone of her letters started to change.

By the end of her second year at Beauxbatons, the two families had become fast friends and the two young women were practically inseparable - until the Grangers had elected to move to America before the new law enforcing Hermione's return to Hogwarts took effect.

From that point on, something had seemed to be missing from Hermione's life - something that they were not truly cognizant of until the two women had renewed their contact in New York the autumn before.

"I will say that when I began hearing about this new young man Harry, I was at first concerned," Sebastien continued. "A young man expressing interest and friendship with a Veela is always a cause for concern for a Veela's father. But then I got 'arrested' by this young man's mother and the rest is history."

Dan had to smile when he heard the chagrin in Sebastien's voice. "Diana arrested you? You the great French auror?"

Diana interjected before the red faced Sebastien could react. "Sebastien here forgot that even non-magicals have gifts which can confuse the magical. Just because one carries a wand does not mean that one is infallible.

"And yes, I did get him." There was now a small smirk on her face.

Emma surprised Dan by speaking next. "I will admit that my original impression of the possibility of these three forming a relationship rather than just Harry and Hermione was negative. Like Dan, I tend to be a traditionalist - one man one woman.

"But I've had the chance to observe the three of them and I can testify to the love and friendship that exists between them. It warms my heart to see how they seem to complete one another's thoughts and make time for one another.

"So I think I can support whatever they want to do."

Apolline nodded her approval. "I thought you would think that way, Emma." Turning to Dan and Sebastien, she smiled. "After all, in matters of the heart, men are always a little more dense than women - or Veela."

Dan raised a question. "Is what they are proposing to do legal in the magical world? I know how the normal non-magical world would view it."

Diana replied for the other four parents. "We've taken the time to discuss this with Alex Mackenzie for his opinion from the point of view of the magical American authorities. As long as no one is compelled to enter the relationship and as long as they carry on the relationship in a discreet manner, there is nothing under American magical law that would forbid the formation of a Veela triad.

"Joe tells me that in cases of mixed jurisdiction like this that the American magical law takes precedent as long as the national interests are not endangered. So, while he may not like it, he would accept it."

Emma asked the next question. "How does Harry view what has been going on and how things may be developing?"

Vincent replied in turn. "My son and I took a very long walk along one of our favorite tunnel hikes yesterday and I had the opportunity to 'grill' him as my wife calls an interrogation process. He himself was somewhat confused, but at the same time he was clear that for him both Hermione and Fleur had become his best friends and that he could not picture a future without both of them in it. While my son is not always the most serious of young men, I sensed his heart and his love for them was genuine - even if he did not know it yet.

"He asked me about the implications of loving two women at the same time and I had to admit to him that while my love for Catherine was first before the love for Diana, that I had the privilege of being loved by two remarkable women and that my love for one was not a betrayal of my love for the other."

With this, he reached out and with a clawed hand, gently brushed away a loose strand of hair from Diana's forehead. Even as the normally hard as nails detective blushed at the attention, the other four adults around the table felt privileged to see such a tender gesture.

"My concluding advice to Harry was to follow his heart - and it appears to me that his heart has room for two."

"You know I am a Veela," Apolline next spoke. "One of the abilities of a Veela is to see the strength of emotional bonds - such as love or hate.

"The bonds between our three children is strong and growing. Will Hermione and Fleur share a physical relationship - that I cannot say. But there is no jealousy between the two women as concerns Harry - my concern is more for Harry in that he will have to learn to please and love two women.

"Most men cannot even do that with one woman."

The rest of the parents chuckled at her observation, but then turned back to Sebastien. "So what is involved with this triad and why are you looking for us to become involved?" Vincent asked.

"Writings about Triad is very sparse and unclear," Sebastien replied. "All we are told is that each Triad is different, that the dynamic between the three players is different, and that they develop and make their own contributions to magic.

"But one thing is clear in the literature and the history books - the importance that is placed on the parents of the three in Triad to act as anchors and supports for the new emerging entity.

"Consider the impact that any one of us could make on this new emerging Triad. Any one of us could say words that would cause our children to turn back from the path they are on or to return to a more conventional way. Our children dare to dream their dreams only because we encourage them to do so."

Emma was now worried that she and Dan's negative thoughts might have influenced the new Triad in a negative way. "Is it too late for us to support our children?"

Sebastien gave her a reassuring look as he smiled. "Emma, our children have only just very recently accepted what they are becoming. No, we have not damaged them - in fact, they have exercised the courage to take this step because of our mutual love for them.

"No, for an anchor, we must commit to them - commit our love, encouragement, and advice, both positive and negative.

"And we must not judge them - I sense with the power, intelligence, passion, and commitment that each of our children possess, that we could be seeing one of the greatest Triads in our history.

"As well, it is a Triad rooted for the first time in three worlds - the world of Down Below, the non-magical world and the magical world. Think of what possibilities of change for all our worlds could result from our children."

Dan was silent for a time, then finally looked first to Emma and caught her answer, then nodded his own approval. "However, Sebastien, your message also said we had to 'referee' a dispute between our three children?"

"Ah Dan, we get to play as adults of a sober mind," the former French auror smiled back. "Fleur has asked for a meeting with us and Alex later this evening to discuss disagreements between the three of them in regards to Albus Dumbledore.

"Both Harry and Hermione are coming as well - they have agreed to lay out their thoughts to us and want us to help them craft a strategy to deal with our old 'friend.'"

The expression on Sebastien's face by now had turned predatory. "I am sure that what they have to suggest is as nothing compared to what I would like to do to the old fool."

Later that Same Evening

Council Chambers

Down Below

The group which gathered in the council chamber just off the library was a solemn one. At the center sat Harry flanked by Fleur on one side and Hermione on the other and opposite them sat Sebastien, Alex Mackenzie, Vincent, Diana, Dan, Emma with Snagtooth completing the circle, looking at home in the chamber despite the distinct lack of weapons on the walls. Harry thought it was perhaps due to the fact that goblins just seemed to shine best in an underground environment.

"So, Harry, Hermione and Fleur, you called this meeting to discuss next steps in regards to Dumbledore and his continued interest in you," Sebastien began. "Nous sommes a l'ecoute - we are all ears as you Americans say."

Harry felt his courage evaporate as he took in the interested looks of all the parents gathered there. Now was not the time to discover that he was developing stage fright.

"We're at a bit of an impasse here - in our discussions with each other on what to do next, we are finding that we cannot agree. I would describe our opinions as 'do nothing', 'hit him hard and fast' and 'use prudence'."

Based on the earlier discussion between themselves, each of the parents felt they could put names to the policies - Harry 'do nothing', Fleur 'hit him hard' and Hermione 'use prudence'. Harry's subsequent comments confirmed their guesses.

"I believe why attract attention when we don't need to. We are in a great position - we've already suffered much from the old fool and now that we are out from under his control, why attract his attention. I've no interest in what's going on in Britain and could care less if the old fool goes down - he's ruined my life enough already."

Fleur turned on her friend and then looked back at her father. "That is exactly why we must do something, 'arry. If we do nothing, then we cannot control if and when he hears that you are still around - and we have then no means to counter any plans he might form to get you.

"Because all that we have learned tells us that he still would want to control you if he could.

"I believe that we need to strike out at him. Undermine his authority. Let the wizarding world learn what they have done to 'arry and why. I think a press conference followed by resolutions in the ICW are the way to go.

"Attack Dumbledore. Keep him too busy with defending his reputation and his name. Then he reacts to us, not we to him."

Hermione was quietly shaking her head and then looked to the now smiling parents. "I fail to see what's so funny here. I've had to listen to these two arguing for the past week - and I've had to threaten to hex them both if they didn't calm down.

"Hermione, what do you think about their suggestions?" Diana asked, curious to see which side she would pick if any.

The young brunette shrugged her shoulders. "I see strong points in both of their positions. Harry has a good thing going now and doesn't want to rock the boat. Fleur believes that a strong offense is better than a strong defense."

She looked at Harry with chagrin on her face. "Unfortunately, I agree with some of Fleur's reasoning. I believe that sooner or later word of Harry's survival or my ascension to the Potter seat will leak to someone in the British magical world and thus sooner or later to either the Dark Lord or Dumbledore. And I believe that to ignore that possibility would be like an ostrich sticking his head in the sand.

"But I am afraid of going on an all out offensive against Dumbledore. I think he has got more tricks up his sleeve than we've got - and he could manipulate any attack into something that blows up in our face."

Sebastien couldn't restrain his laughter any longer. "Brilliant, brilliant. Just like you predicted, my friends. Each of them bringing different perspectives and reasons to the table with Miss Granger being the one to balance them to a point.

Looking to the three surprised young people, his smile broadened. "My children. It is a joy to watch a new Triad learn to dance. And I am sure that these kind of vibrant discussions will be a constant fixture of your years together in the future."

Hermione looked offended now. "We came to you for advice, not some proverbs about dancing and vibrant discussions. These two were almost at each others' throats and I had to step in to try and bring some calm."

Alex Mackenzie was smiling inwardly as well at the display of the passion the three young people were bringing to the discussion. He felt he was seeing the birth of something exciting and new, but felt that Miss Granger's emotions were all in a tumult and that some calming words were in order.

"Miss Granger, Mr Potter, Mlle Delacour - each of you raised valid points and we appreciate your bringing them to us although I think you've already arrived at the best solution. If you and your parents will permit me?" At that he turned to the rest of the older adults around the table and they quietly nodded.

"Harry, your strategy of doing nothing would normally work if not for Dumbledore's obsessive interest in you from the beginning. I've dealt with the old fool for years and I can assure you that he believes only he knows what is best. Thus, given any hint of your possible existence, he will bend heaven and earth to find you and bring you back to himself and back under his control.

"Fleur, your sentiments are right but the strategy is flawed. Hermione is right when she says that Albus Dumbledore is a canny, cunning and manipulative opponent. There is more experience and tricks in his one hand than we have in this entire room. Thus a strategy to attack him could backfire spectacularly in our faces and leave Dumbledore in a much stronger position.

"As well, if we release too much information to Dumbledore and his allies, it tells them how to find us, how to strike at us and how to attempt to coerce us to their plan and their will. An important truth in warfare is to keep your enemies in the dark about your abilities, your location and your objectives - the less they know about you the better.

"Hermione, your approach suggests caution and a proactive approach. I would agree with such an approach, but in line with my comments earlier, I believe that we must dole out the information about Harry and the new Headships. Make Dumbledore work for his answers and make him come to us for more information. We want to control how he reacts and what information he finds out. Keep him in the dark as much as possible."

Hermione raised her hand, then suddenly reddened as she remembered she was not in school. "What about the Dark Lord? Won't he react as well?"

Sebastien took the lead now. "While the Dark Lord appears to have been obsessed with you as a baby, he is also a realist. He may be a psychopath, but he is engaged in a three sided civil war and he cannot afford to spin off resources that he needs in his current struggle to locate and kill one wizard in North America. No, Lord Voldemort will only attack if he can get in and out quickly with a minimum of casualties.

"No, it is Dumbledore that would be the immediate danger to Harry - and by extension to Hermione and to this world," he concluded.

Diana had been thinking about Hermione's proposal and then a sudden idea struck her. "Why not a controlled press event?" she questioned.

Alex and Sebastien both looked at her for a moment before looks of understanding dawned, However, the other older adults as well as the three young people looked at her with confusion.

"A controlled press release - we sometimes use it if we are trying to provoke a reaction from a criminal that we are tracking. Sometimes a criminal commits crimes for the attention and by issuing a controlled press release, we give out information to smoke out the criminal so to speak.

"We force them to commit themselves and to get off their game - to dance a little to our tune. A controlled press release will do what Alex and Sebastien suggested - let Dumbledore know that something's up, but not release a lot of information. So the hoarder of information will have to deal with a lack of information."

Hermione now nodded her head. "But what information could we release and how could we release it? I don't believe we should announce that Harry Potter is alive - when he really is not."

Dan now spoke up for the first time. "Sebastien - how important would the news be that Hermione has now claimed the headship of the Potter family? In Britain, that is?"

"It would be front page news - especially that a hitherto suspected muggleborn is now revealed to be the head of one of the most ancient and noble families in Britain."

Snagtooth added a smile which displayed all of his formidable teeth. The predator was alive and well in the old goblin.

"The old fool has been sniffing around for some time in regards to the Black and Potter vaults. He has interest greater than a normal Chief Warlock would have for the vaults of a family deemed extinct.

"We suspect that he may make a move this year to declare the Potter vault open - as it is now over 10 years since Mr. Potter disappeared from their world and it now the 10th anniversary of the date he was to start at Hogwarts.

"Dan Granger, you think like a goblin. Build a trap around these vaults and entice him in..."

Alex slapped his hand on the table. "Good idea, both of you. That's the ticket.

But we cannot arrange for a trap yet to kill the old man. Instead, we arrange for the news of the revealing of the new Head of the Potter Family to have been found in the United States - and have Fleur and Harry by her side. Magical pictures will allow someone who might recognize Harry to draw their own conclusion and I would suspect any story with the name of the Potters to attract immediate Dumbledore attention."

Sebastien gave a warning glance at all the people around the table. "You must be prepared, though, that the old goat will have many tricks up his sleeve to search out more information about Harry and then act to take control. We must be on our guard."

The meeting dissolved into speculation as to what tactics the old Headmaster might use, but the die had been cast.

The first steps in the conflict with Dumbledore had been taken.

Early July 2001

Down Below

Waterfalls

It had been another short planning session with all the players to organize the photo event around the declaration that the Potter vaults were open and the three young people had just left for a short walk to the waterfall.

"I could never get tired of the wonders of this world, Harry," Hermione said, leaning back against the rock wall and watching Harry and Fleur throw rocks into the falling water.

"'arry, you are truly blessed and to think that in a short time we three will have our own 'ouse with an entrance to this wonderful world," Fleur said in excitement.

Harry was discovering that he was learning to see his world with completely new eyes as his two Companions commented on and shared their appreciation for the world below.

"I could sit and watch you girls watch the falls all day," he said in a contented tone.

Hermione's face scrunched up as she considered his words. "Mr. Wells, I would hope that you realize that even if my parents gave this 'Triad' thing their blessing that you still have to work to keep me interested.

"A woman never wants to stop being loved - and being pursued. And you Mr. Wells have only begun the chase."

Fleur's light laughter now echoed through the rock chamber. "Ah, mon amour 'ermione, I can see that you have taken in some of the lessons I tried to teach you at Beauxbatons."

She turned to Harry. "M. Wells, your other Companion has given you a valuable clue to understanding women. You will do well to heed it."

She would have said more, but suddenly there was a scream from one of the nearby chambers. Harry jerked up in a flash and quickly ran to the nearest tunnel entrance. The scream came again and this time, he tore down the tunnel in a flash, leaving his two Companions to follow as quickly as they could.

By the time they caught up to him, he was holding his sister Catherine in his arms and she was sobbing on his shoulder.

"I couldn't stop her, Harry. I couldn't stop her - and when I touched her, she was so afraid. So very afraid."

He heard a rustle behind him and turned to see his mother running a hand through her hair, a true sign of her concern. "She's awake now and she's stopped shaking, Harry. But I'm afraid that she's had another one of her visions.

"And this one has her truly frightened. Something about it's too late - that we have to prepare for the day the Twins fall.

"I have no idea what she is talking about. What are the Twins?"

No one in Down Below had any idea what Erin might have been referring to - no one until Alex Mackenzie came two days later and heard the tale.

"Merlin, she must mean the Twin Towers."

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**A/N: Yes, I know. A fluff chapter in many ways, but one with some insight into the dynamics of the threesome, the growing relationships between the parents of the three and, as promised, the beginning of the counter against Dumbledore. Expect events to move more quickly now as we bring back our old 'friends' - Dumbledore, Bones, and other supporting cast - and bring together the magical world and the world below. **

**Next chapter - Albus gets a little frustrated - and a little controlled press event.**

**As well, hopefully you caught the reference to the Twins.**

**Till next time.**


	22. Chapter 21: Opening the Vaults

**A/N: Hey guys! Another new chapter! 2 in one daay, aren't you guys lucky :P **

**Disclaimer: We don't own any of the fammiliar stuff, capiche? So don't sue us. **

**Flames will be used to barbeque pineapple.**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-One: Opening the Vault

Mid July 2001

Gringotts London Branch

This year would have been the tenth anniversary of Harry Potter's arrival at Hogwarts. Today, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, entered the lobby of Gringotts on a task that for him was one of the saddest that he had ever undertaken.

By coming to Gringotts with the Wizengamot's latest order in his hand, he was admitting that Harry Potter was irretrievably lost and most likely dead.

He had refused to believe the goblin's declaration back in 1994 that Harry Potter was dead. The prophecy was more powerful than even the magic of the goblins – and destiny would not, indeed could not be denied.

He had visited and revisited his decisions over the past: leaving Harry at the Dursleys even though nine years later he had received an eye opening glimpse into their attitudes and actions towards their young nephew; using the blood magic ritual to force Harry to Hogwarts at the Tri Wizard Ceremony although it had been unsuccessful; allowing Sirius Black to be Kissed and only discovering a year later that he had been innocent all along.

Would he have changed anything? He thought placing Harry with the Dursleys would be the only decision that he would change. Everything else were decisions that he had made in light of either pressing needs or information he had had at the time.

Where did young Harry go, he asked himself for the thousandth time. The instruments that had measured Harry's life had died after the blood ritual and his name no longer showed among the living in the Hogwarts' register. Perhaps, he truly was dead and if he was, Albus feared for the future of the British magical world.

Making his way across the lobby, he approached the service counter and asked for Director Ragnok. At some subtle signs from the goblin behind the counter, one obviously junior clerk exited and returned moments later, nodding his head.

"Chief Warlock, Director Ragnok will see you in the conference room now," the chief teller said, indicating the clerk.

The room to which Dumbledore was led was familiar to him: he had had several meetings over the past decades with Ragnok although this would be one of the saddest.

No sooner had he entered than a door at the opposite wall opened to allow the bank director to enter. Bowing in a ritual form of respect, the old wizard waited until Ragnok had seated himself first before taking his seat.

"Albus Dumbledore, it has been too long," Ragnok began. "What brings you to Gringotts and to me today?"

Typical of the director and the goblins in general: straight to the point with little of the wizarding community's game of polite dancing, Dumbledore thought to himself. He withdrew two parchments from his robes and extended them to Ragnok.

"Today is a sad day. Yesterday we agreed with your declaration of seven years ago - we declared Harry Potter dead and today we move to declare the Potter vaults closed and expropriated for the wizarding world," Dumbledore replied.

Ragnok looked at the old man carefully. He had anticipated this conversation for some time and again noted his appreciation for the discretion and foresight of the young Delacour witch in New York. That plus the recent memo from Snagtooth in New York had whetted his anticipation for this conversation to a keen edge. In his mind's eye, he could see the battle axe ready to descend upon the old fool's neck.

"Are these the declarations?"

Dumbledore nodded and indicated the seal of the Ministry on the parchments. The director opened them, appeared to read them quickly and then returned them to the old man.

"The papers are in order from your side: however, not in ours," he said. "Harry Potter has been declared dead, but magic told us at Gringotts that there still were Potter heirs and, as such, the Potter vaults would not have been turned over to the ministry."

Ragnok knew that he had to tread carefully here and not reveal what he had learned only two months previously. This, plus the request to time the release of any information that had been made by Gringotts New York, ensured his lips were sealed until the press release would be made.

Dumbledore was shocked. He was finally convinced that Harry was now dead and with Harry dead, the Potter line would now be extinct.

"I fail to understand, Director."

"Harry Potter died, Chief Warlock, declared in 1994," Ragnok replied. He felt comfortable saying that because, under the old rules of magic, once the heart stopped beating, a person was declared dead. "But when we examined the magical seals on the Potter vaults, their magic was still in force.

"As well, your so-called authorization over Harry Potter as his magical guardian died in 1994 when he died. There is still a Potter heir present closer than twelve generations removed from the main Potter line."

"What of Mr. Potter's trust vault?"

"That has been returned to the main Potter vault some time ago."

Dumbledore was still shaking his head. There was another Potter heir. Would the Potter magic and perhaps even the prophecy flow to this heir? Then he remembered: he had another task here today.

"I am here as well to discuss the Black estate and its disposition," he began. "With the death of Sirius Black, the Wizengamot would like to know if the estate could now be declared open to the Ministry."

He had anticipated that Sirius had died without an heir and as such, the estate would have fallen to the Black's nearest relative – in this case Draco Malfoy of the Malfoy family. Yet despite careful questioning by himself and Snape, there was no sign that the Black estate had been awarded to the Malfoys.

"It is not our custom to discuss a living estate," Ragnok replied, a tone of impatience now clearly evident. "You had not asked us about the estate when Lord Black was unfortunately killed."

This was another of Dumbledore's regrets. Only a year after Sirius had been Kissed hard evidence had emerged that he had not been the secret keeper for the Potters after all. Cedric Diggory who had barely survived the events of the TriWizard Tournament had confirmed Peter Pettigrew had been by Voldemort's side when he had been resurrected that night.

He, Albus Dumbledore, leader of the light, had sentenced an innocent man to the Dementor's Kiss.

Still he had been tasked to find out what had happened to the Black estate and so he persisted.

"The estate of Sirius Black has never been awarded or claimed by those who were closest in blood to claim it," he said. "There is no record of anyone else claiming the estate."

"We followed Lord Black's instructions to the letter and his designated heir has filed the appropriate documents and claimed the estate to our satisfaction," the director replied. There was smugness in his manner that Dumbledore who had many years of experience in dealing with the goblins could easily detect.

"Estates of the size of Sirius Black must be probated by the Wizengamot," he replied. "Surely you can tell us – in fact, I insist…"

"Dumbledore, do not try your manipulations here. If the heir is from another magical nation, then we at Gringotts are not required to report anything to you."

"The heir is from outside Britain? But Sirius had no relations or family abroad."

"We only execute the will. We do not question the provisions. If Lord Voldemort were to present himself here on a question of a will and the will provisions allowed him to appear then he would be allowed to attend a will reading."

"May I know the heir's name?"

"No! You may not know it. The will has been executed and the heir has requested to remain anonymous."

So there was a Potter heir and now an unknown Black heir. At least the Malfoys would not receive anything to give Voldemort.

Everything had come up empty for him and for his role at the Wizengamot.

He rose; frustration barely concealed, and exited the bank. Blast the goblins and their secrets upon secrets. Ragnok knew something, knew several somethings. Something about the Potter estate, something about Black.

However, Ragnok had clearly confirmed Harry's death in 1994. His heart sank within him. It had to have been in connection with the blood ritual. Harry had not been in a position to respond and the Goblet's magic would have required his magic and his life. But it had seemed like the only option left and it had been critical that Harry be found.

He remembered well the pulse that night when Harry's name had emerged from the Goblet. He had felt the pulse leave the castle and speed out although there had been no indication in which direction it had gone.

And now the Potter estate was in lockdown because the Potter magic recognized there was still an heir. Somewhere in Britain was someone who had enough of the Potter blood to be able to claim the Potter estate.

As well, who was the Black heir? If Sirius had had any choice as to who he would have left his estate, the only name would have been his godson, Harry Potter. Yet Harry died only a few weeks before his godfather.

Who indeed was the person who had received the Black millions?

August 4, 2001

Hogwarts Great Hall

It was the headline on the Daily Prophet's front page three weeks later that grabbed Dumbledore's attention:

_Potter Heir Found in America_

_ Witch, formerly thought to be Muggleborn, Turns Out to Be Potter Heir_

_ Hermione Granger, former Hogwarts' student who left Britain and Beauxbatons shortly after the end of the second task of the TriWizard Tournament, was announced yesterday at the New York City branch of Gringotts as the last Potter heir._

_ "Ms. Granger came into our office in New York and requested a blood inheritance test. While not encouraged in Britain due to issues of blood magic, it is allowed in the United States," Snagtooth assistant director of Gringotts, New York City, told the American Magical Courier._

Dumbledore was in shock reading the Prophet. He was well aware of the goblins' blood ceremony and had understood why so many among the Pureblood faction in the Wizengamot were opposed to it. Forcing wizards who believed in the purity of blood to accept that muggleborns were not magic stealers, but in many cases were simply the reemergence of magic in a family after the spark had gone dormant for many generations were unwelcome truths and if followed through to their logical conclusion would result in a rethinking of many tenets of pureblood doctrine.

That the United States was more liberal in their approaches to this ritual, Dumbledore also knew. Yet what would have possessed Miss Granger to go to Gringotts in San Francisco to be tested was an interesting question.

He remembered the young Ravenclaw witch well. From her near fatal encounter with a troll in her first year on Halloween 1991 to being petrified by Slytherin's monster in her second year, young Miss Granger had encountered more than her fair share of dangers at Hogwarts: enough that her parents had withdrawn her from Hogwarts and sent her to Beauxbatons in France.

Even now Dumbledore regretted having obliviated the young witch after the troll incident in her first year, but he knew that she should not have to face the fear and terror of an unfortunate incident and was glad that the minds of young children were so flexible and able to readjust to shock and trauma.

Then Miss Granger had returned with the school contingent for the TriWizard Tournament and her participation, without her parents' approval, in the second task had been the final straw to her parents remaining in Britain at all. The British magical world had lost a promising and powerful witch that day and Great Lakes Academy in the U.S. had gained.

It had been cases like hers' that had pushed Dumbledore to have the Wizengamot pass the law that required that witches and wizards who started their magical education in Britain should complete their education at the institutions where they had started their training. This would ensure consistent well-rounded British magical young adults.

Yet the Grangers had left Britain and appeared to have moved to a magical school that tried to mix magical and muggle studies, a step that Dumbledore felt was a slippery slope to leaving the magical world altogether.

So why would she engage in the blood ritual now? And what would be the implications of her being named the Potter Heir?

It took several calls and inquiries before Albus determined that Miss Granger's participation appeared to be the result of a campaign by Gringotts to revive long dormant accounts. Forbidden to do anything in Britain, Gringotts International was working with wizarding families outside of the island to establish links between modern wizards and historically extinct lines.

Miss Granger had obviously participated in this campaign and the result was front page news.

However, it was the front page picture the next day which aroused Albus Dumbledore's curiosity all over again.

_Potter Heir and Friends transfer Contents of Potter Vault to Her Own _

_ Hermione Jane Granger, recently discovered heir of the Potter Estate and House, here shown with Gringotts' employee Fleur Delacour and friend H Wells of New York City, opens her new vaults at the New York Brank of Gringotts._

Dumbledore could clearly make out Miss Delacour, but what caught his eye was the third person in the photo. As the picture moved, for a brief second, he thought he saw a ghost: the ghost of a man long dead.

The ghost of James Potter.

It only appeared for a second and then the angle of the camera changed. Dumbledore cursed the lack of color in the photo: was the young man's hair brown or black. Stills, after searching so long, after beating every corner of the globe, did he dare believe that Harry Potter, by some miracle, was alive?

It was time to call Remus…

* * *

**A/N: As promised, we will begin to see both Harry and our old 'friend' begin to move closer to meeting one another and then moving to resolution of the Harry Potter prophecy and struggle with both Dumbledore and Voldemort.**

** Next chapter, Remus hits New York, but discovers he is no longer the Alpha Male.**


	23. Chapter 22: Beast vs Beast

**A/N: Hai guys! I hope you had coffee or something before this, because you could be here awhile. Be forewarned.**

* * *

Chapter Twenty Two: Beast versus Beast

_Hogwarts Castle,_  
_Iverness, Scotland_  
_August 5, 2001_

The walk up the path from Hogsmeade was always a bittersweet one for Remus these days. Bittersweet for the memories of happier times when the Marauders roamed; bittersweet for the memories of faces and people once friends and now dead.

The war seemed now without end – a raid here, arrests there, attacks and counter attacks.

Brutality appeared to be on the rise with voices such as Albus Dumbledore's falling on deaf ears. No longer was there any sentiment of forgiveness and reconciliation – now the call was for vengeance, retaliation and terror.

Even he himself had not escaped the touch of war. He bore many scars now – scars of battles with other werewolves, scars of at least two battles with Greyback himself and most of all, mental scars and memories of battles and their aftermath – twisted bodies, mutilations, atrocities, and burnt out buildings. Even his own lover, his Nymie, had lost an arm and an eye to the battles and the war.

So why would the old headmaster call him now to Hogwarts? The image of a spider in the center of its web came to mind – how much information lay in the old man's mind he wondered and how much could he have influenced the course of the war if only he would stop his reluctance to shed blood.

The gates to the school opened at his approach and the giant figure of Hagrid greeted him as he stepped onto the Hogwarts' grounds. The two said little to each other after exchanging greetings – the war had put them on opposite sides with Hagrid maintaining his belief in Dumbledore's forgive and forget policy and Lupin supporting the policy of Minister Bones.

Finally Remus stood before the Headmaster's door and before he could figuratively gird himself for the meeting with the old man, the door opened of its own accord.

"Remus, my boy, come in, come in," came Dumbledore's voice. To Remus' practiced ear, the old man seemed older and more tired.

The werewolf entered and took a chair in front of the Headmaster's desk. Dumbledore did indeed look older as if the weight of the war was telling on him – but there was an excitement in his eyes that Remus had not seen for a long time. Dumbledore was excited about something.

"How goes your visits with your brethren?" he continued in a conversational tone as he waved a cup of tea towards his visitor. Taking a cup himself, he inhaled the steam from the steeping tea and appeared to relax.

"With difficulty, Albus. The werewolves are tired of being made cannon fodder for all the sides in this war. You-Know-Who offers them protection and a removal of restrictions yet tells others that we are dark creatures. The Ministry refuses to remove the restrictions they imposed under the Fudge administration and you – you refuse to repeal the laws that label us as dark creatures in the first place."

"Remus, my boy, you must understand that holding together a coalition is a difficult enterprise at the best of times – and these times, unfortunately are not the best of times. I will move to repeal laws when I have more freedoms with my portion of the Wizengamot and my faction is stronger. You have my word."

Typical politician, Remus thought to himself. Promise much but deliver nothing or little. "Still, Albus, I suspect that a desire for an update on the werewolf population of Britain was not the reason you summoned me here, is it?"

"Remus, Remus – always the impatient one. You must learn to take the time to appreciate the finer things of life. But if you insist, yes, there is a reason why I wanted you here today."

Pushing a copy of the Daily Prophet in front of the worn werewolf, he indicated the picture and cutline on the bottom of the front page. "Something came up in regards to a family with which you had a passing acquaintance."

Scanning the picture and the cutline, Remus read it and then reread it. "So a heir to the Potter estate has been found. What has that got to do with me now, Albus?"

The old man's eyes were twinkling madly now – he must be jumping down in excitement, Remus decided. "Take a closer look at the picture my boy."

Remus looked again at the picture noting in passing that the Granger girl was an attractive woman in her own right, that the Delacour girl had to be a Veela and….yes, there was a hint of something in the young man – yes, a suggestion of James Potter.

"Are you concerned about the Granger girl getting the Potter estate, Albus?" he asked, suspecting that was not really the issue for the Headmaster.

There was now a look of frustration in the old man's eyes. "No, my boy. Look at the young man beside Mlle Delacour. Tell me what you see."

Remus pretended to scrutinize the picture more closely. "The boy?" At Dumbledore's nod, he looked again. "He's hard to make out – pity the picture is in black and white. But I think he may have hair like James Potter."

"Exactly my boy, exactly. I believe Remus that we may have found our missing Harry Potter." There was definite satisfaction in his voice.

"Harry Potter?" The incredulity in Remus' voice was not feigned. "The goblins said he died in October 1994 – and they even locked down the Potter vaults from that date to this."

"Yes, my boy, yes – but the goblins did not know what I knew about young Harry. He could have died – or he could not have died. I believe that he did not die and that the young man we have been searching for all this time is in New York."

Remus pondered Dumbledore's comment. He could smell the excitement in the old man even though he was trying to hide it – excitement and hope. "What are you going to do about it, Albus?"

"Remus, my boy, I am afraid that I must ask you once again to undertake a journey on behalf of the light – for the greater good."

"Albus – you can't mean …."

"Yes, my boy. You need to go to New York City and scout out whom this Harry Wells is. Is he our missing Mr. Potter?"

"And if he is? What then?"

Dumbledore was silent for a moment, stroking his long white beard. "Do nothing, but find out everything you can about him – where he lives, what he does, his magical status – everything you can.

"I must know what we are dealing with – what I am dealing with before I go to New York and bring him back to take his place among us."

Remus felt irritation rise at the cavalier way Dumbledore was suggesting that this young man, even if he were Harry Potter, would just drop everything and move back to Britain.

"Albus, Harry has been gone from Britain for at least 11 years. If this young man is Harry, what makes you think that he will willingly just drop everything and move back to Britain? And why is he so important anyway?"

"Remus, Harry is the Chosen One. There was a prophecy made before Harry was born that implied that he and only he would be the one who could defeat Voldemort. The greater good demands that Harry return – destiny decrees that he must return. There is no other way."

Remus knew by now that when Albus began with that tone of voice there would be no disagreeing, no allowance for contrary opinions. He was in his 'greater good' persona – implying that he was the only one who understood how to plan the future.

"I am tempted to say no, Albus. I have no wish to become your tool to take someone who, although he may be Harry, has made a home for himself and left this country 11 years ago. I heard enough about the mistakes you made in placing him, in trying the Blood Summoning Ritual to bring him to Hogwarts in 1994 – no, I think I will not go and help you this time, Albus."

The friendly twinkle that Dumbledore normally used had suddenly vanished, replaced by a much harder expression. "Mr. Lupin, need I remind you of your oath to me as the Leader of the Order?"

Even as Dumbledore spoke, Remus felt compulsions kick in. "You swore you would never use the provisions of those oaths, Albus," he said, gritting his teeth and forcing the words out. "You are violating those terms now."

"Remus, my boy, what I do, I do for the greater good. I can even release you from your oath – once you go to New York City and scout out who is this young man and then return and share the news with me.

"Remember as well the bonds of friendship you once shared with James and Lily. This may be their only surviving son – how would they feel if their only son were growing up with no idea of his inheritance, of his place in our world.

"No, Remus, what you do – you must do. I order this in the name of the Greater Good."

There was a moment when Remus felt himself divide into two. One part, the part that had protested the task of searching out Harry Potter was now subsumed into the other part, the part of a loyal member of the Order, ready to fulfill his leader's commands.

"How would I get there?" Remus heard himself say in a more mechanical tone.

"International Portkey – directly to the Magical Mall in the city. I would suggest that you might start with the Granger girl – she appears to have some working knowledge of Mr. Wells and can perhaps lead you to your quarry directly.

"Would you be ready now?"

Remus wanted to scream his defiance to the old wizard, but the force of the oaths now commanding his body merely nodded his head.

"Take this bag of galleons as an expense fund and – happy hunting."

With a silent touch of Dumbledore's wand, the portkey, a pink flamingo, glowed blue and Remus Lupin was gone.

Albus Dumbledore nodded his head in satisfaction. That touch with the oath of allegiance to the Order had been a good thing he decided. Soon events would be moving along, as they should in returning Mr. Potter back under his control and ready to fulfill his plans for the Greater Good.

* * *

_Conference Chamber, The World Below_

_August 6, 2001_

The days since Erin's nightmare about the Twins had seen some short discussions, but Alex Mackenzie had kept his thoughts to himself until the meeting he had called for this evening. He had tried to share Erin's warnings to his superiors, but while they had listened with interest and even some belief, they felt there was not enough information to act.

"Without details as to when, how and why, we cannot act or do anything other than have increased surveillance," the director of the MFBI had told him.

He knocked on the tunnel door and the sentry bid him enter without a word – he was one of the regulars now and he was as welcome as any other member of the community.

The journey down below did not occupy his thoughts – instead he was thinking of how they could prepare for the visit they expected from Albus Dumbledore. He expected Albus would not miss the hint of Harry's face in the photo of the new Head of the Potter Family, but he did not know how the old wizard would respond.

Perhaps they could set up warning wards across the major entrances to the World Below – to be triggered only if someone magical who was not keyed into them attempted to cross them. Perhaps anti apparition wards set up in a permanent fashion; anti Portkey wards – the list went on and on.  
Alex knew he could call on the resources of the MFBI for this task, as anything that could keep the conflict in Britain from crossing the Atlantic would be a good thing.

His arrival at the council chamber was greeted with greetings and smiles, but Diana's face looked drawn and fatigued. "Good to see you Alex," she greeted. "Erin's had two more nightmares and she keeps crying about the fall of the Twins. She says we have to get ready and prepare ourselves.

"Any luck with your superiors?"

Alex shook his head. "No, without specifics they will do nothing. But I think you and this world should prepare."

The three young people as well as Diana and Vincent sat down at the council table and looked at Alex expectantly. He felt he wanted to address Erin's concerns first.

"As I told Diana, I have had no success with convincing my superiors to do anything in regards to the Twin Towers. They feel there is not enough specific information to act.

"But given Erin's three warnings, I believe that this world needs to prepare."

Vincent spoke as the incoming council leader. "How are we to prepare?"

"It would depend on when the event would occur and the cause for the collapse of the Twins. While I am no expert in Divination, having barely passed it in magical school, I learned that the closer an event, the more often a warning would be repeated.

"I believe the fall of the Twins is close – and the fact that Erin's dreams refer only to the collapse of the Twins suggests this is not a natural disaster."

"You're thinking terrorist attack, aren't you Alex?" Diana asked.

"You've got it. Islamists tried to set off a bomb in the parking garage of one of the Towers back in 1993 and while I don't know how anyone could attack it now, it would be a tempting target for a terrorist attack."

Vincent next spoke, authority in his voice. "If the Towers are to fall, I see two immediate priorities. First of all, setting up a contingency plan to ensure that we minimize casualties to our own community members. Secondly, we would need a plan to minimize the exposure of our world," he began.

Hermione took the opportunity of a pause in Vincent's discourse to speak in a low voice. "Could I suggest a third priority?"

Vincent bent his head in his traditional courteous manner and Hermione continued. "Why not use this opportunity of this to help? I mean, if we are forewarned, then we can perhaps stack medical supplies – bandages, gauze, water bottles and so on."

Alex and Vincent both were nodding their heads in approval as Hermione was speaking. "We would have to take care not to reveal the source of these supplies, but if things were ready then the first responders would have supplies to hand," Vincent said, adding his own thoughts.

Alex could see that things were well in hand for preparations for the potential Twins fall. It was time now to bring up the other subject for his visit.

"I'm concerned about how Dumbledore might react and how we should prepare for him," he began. "I know this old wizard for a long time and I suspect that he would not seek to react immediately – he's the kind of man who likes to gather intel – intelligence on the five W's – before he moves on an issue.

"If I were he, I would send someone I could trust to scout out where Harry Wells lives and whether this Harry Wells is truly or potentially could be Harry Potter."

Harry interrupted. "What about the reports the goblins made in Britain about my death in 1994? Wouldn't he have believed it?"

Alex shook his head. "No, I would think that as he is convinced that he is the only one who can correctly interpret this particular prophecy regarding Harry, he would have doubts that Harry Potter would have truly died. What are the reports of goblins compared to that?"

"What do you suggest for security then?" Diana asked next.

Alex took out his notebook and consulted some pages of notes he had made. "I am going to suggest that we establish perimeter ward lines at all the major entrances to the tunnels. These perimeter ward lines will pose no inconvenience for non-magicals nor even goblins, but would give a warning to selected individuals when someone magical not keyed into the wards crosses the line. This would help us identify potential 'spies' or scouts from Dumbledore.

"Who would you key in?" Fleur wanted to know.

"You, the members of your family, Erin, Harry, Ben Granger, myself – that is all I believe we need to key in. Just immediate family and friends."

Harry nodded his agreement and both Diana and Vincent also gave their approval on behalf of the community. "How soon could they be set up?" Harry asked.

"It would take me and one of my assistants no more than a day to get it all done," Alex replied.

"Please make it so," Vincent requested. He then turned to Harry and Diana. "Let's talk about the preparations we might need to make about the fall of the Twins."

Alex rose even as the other members of the council came in to take their seats at the council table. He had accomplished what he had come for – but he couldn't help but notice that although he left, Fleur and Hermione stayed behind. They were becoming members of the council and thus part of the fabric of the world below without even realizing it.

* * *

_Outside Gringotts New York_

_ Ausgust 7, 2001_

Remus hated portkeys. He absolutely detested international portkeys. He positively, absolutely detested and despised international transatlantic portkeys.

Once his stomach had finally settled, he looked around him and noted the constant flow of people in and out of the Gringotts NYC branch. While the fashions of American witches and wizards showed much more convergence with those of the muggle world, he still could make out subtle differences between magicals and non-magicals in the area.

He had been waiting outside the branch for two days now, hoping to catch a glimpse of any of the three young people from the photo that had so piqued Albus' interest. Even now, he was still not sure what he had seen – the glimpse of the young man in the picture had been tantalizingly short and only if one saw him at a specific angle could one see a possible resemblance to James Potter.

It was late in the afternoon of the second day that he saw the blond hair and lithe figure of the Veela who could only be Fleur Delacour. The match between her and the picture was remarkably close and as she passed him on the way into the bank he caught wind of a scent. It wasn't her own Veela scent – his werewolf nose could distinguish between human and Veela, but instead, it was something clinging on her clothes – as she was wearing something that had belonged to someone else. And the scent was both familiar and unfamiliar – something that tickled his memories, but at the same time felt different and new.

So he waited.

And waited.

After all, she must come out sometime.

* * *

_The World Below_

_Late Afternoon, August 7, 2001_

"Is that everything?" Vincent looked at the other members of the council. Harry, still newly on the council himself, looked around before he raised his own hand. "You are not in school, Harry – a simple yes or no will be sufficient." Vincent said with the hint of a smile.

"I've been thinking about how we can protect ourselves in regards to air contamination," Harry continued. "Modern construction, if it burns, can release a lot of dangerous chemicals and particulates into the air – and guaranteed, depending on how the Twins fall and why they fall, they could burn."

Pascal, while now more of a councilor emeritus, nodded his head in approval. "We would need to block off the air flow from the tunnels near the Twins, Vincent. That can be easily done – in fact, if we block off the tunnels completely around the Twins, no dangerous chemicals or other elements would get into the tunnels."

Vincent made some notes on his pad, then summarized again. "So we have the three families near the Twins who will be moved by the middle of the month, we will block off the tunnels around the Twins so that there will be no sign of our world and this will also address air flow issues…."

Father Wells next spoke. "We have made four caches of material for first aid, emergency food and water supplies and emergency medical supplies – easily accessible to first responders up top as per Hermione's suggestion."

Vincent made another note, and then looked up at the council members. "I believe that covers everything. Thank you for you're input and help."

Harry waited until the other members of the council had left, then turned to his father. "Dad, a quick note – Alex said he finished setting up the magical ward alarms this morning and they should be operational now."

Vincent stared off into space for a moment. "Who will be notified if the ward alarms go off?"

"One will go to me – I carry a alarm stone on me. The others will alert Alex and one of the Gringotts guards who will in turn alert Snagtooth.

"It is the best we can do for the moment."

The older man clapped the shoulder of his oldest son. "Well done, Harry. This is a battle that you must lead in – the rest of our world is at a disadvantage when it comes to defending ourselves against magicals.

"Still, let's go to supper. I believe you have an off night tonight in regards to your magical courses, no?"

"Yes, Dad. Thankfully. Fleur is coming tonight – she wants some one on one Fleur Harry time."

Vincent chuckled. "Harry, have you not yet learned that the love of a beautiful woman is a beautiful thing? You have the opportunity to experience beauty in two ways with two very different, yet complementary women."

"But Dad, sometimes they want my input on how I feel about things they like to do like shopping."

Vincent shrugged his shoulders. "That, son, is something that I can claim that I will never have to experience. There are advantages to being the husband of one woman – at least, I do not have to worry about pleasing more than your mother.

"But both of your 'companions' bring much to you and to our world. Hermione with her caring heart and willingness to learn from Peter and Father is our doctor in training; Fleur with her love of children and sense of color and beauty has done much to bring color and beauty to our world. I cannot stress enough how improved morale for a family was improved after Fleur came by and just with a few pieces of carefully placed cloth, fabric and materials, she introduced the sun or the sky into formerly dark chambers.

"Learn to appreciate each 'companion' you have, son. They each bless you in their own way – and bless us in passing."

The two men put their arm around each shoulder and embraced before Harry moved away to his own chamber.

* * *

_The Streets, New York City_

_Late Afternoon, August 7, 2001_

Remus began the ghosting procedures he had perfected in earlier missions for Albus. First disillusionment, then a spell on his feet to deaden sound and finally quick efficient moves to shadow Mlle Delacour. He followed her first as she walked along crowded city streets and away from the busy business sector. But as she continued walking through more residential areas, he could see a park in the distance – that had to be Central Park.

It was when she crossed the street to enter the park itself that Remus became confused. Was she meeting Miss Granger or this Harry Wells in the park? Then she disappeared.

He had had to keep his distance in tailing her and thus had missed when she entered the tunnel entrance near the Park carousel. Thus, when she was no longer visible, Remus at first looked around in confusion and fear. Had she discovered him? Where could she have gone? And what was the source of that mix of scents that clung to Fleur with such tenacity?

He began circling around the park in ever larger and larger circles trying to recapture Fleur's scent. Then, near the carousel and by an underground tunnel entrance, he picked it up again. But here it made no sense. She had gone into a tunnel? And where would she have gone from there?

Feeling along the tunnel wall, he entered the cool shadow of the entrance and felt along the back of the wall. Yes, the scent definitely stopped here. Then he felt something give and with a sliding noise the back slid to one side, exposing a torch lit brick lined tunnel behind the wall.

Casting around the tunnel, he was relieved to pick up the scent again. Fleur had definitely gone this way. So, walking carefully along the tunnel walls, he began to trace the scent down into the depths below the city.

* * *

_Harry's Chamber, The World Below_

_Early Evening, August 7, 2001_

The warning alarm jolted Harry awake from the light sleep into which he had fallen. He had known it would take time for Fleur to walk from the Magical Mile to the Hub and he had taken advantage of his soft mattress to close his eyes.

The buzzing that had awakened him was new and at first he did not know what it was. But as it continued to vibrate on his chest, he finally realized what was going off and then he grew alarmed.

A magical visitor not previously approved by the committee had entered the tunnels.

He had to warn somebody.

He rose up quickly and picking up a pipe, he began pounding out on the pipe outside of his door. Moments later, his father and mother peered in.

"Harry, what's the emergency?" Vincent began.

"Our ward alarm has just gone off. An unknown magical has entered the tunnels – by the Central Park carousel entry, I would think," Harry replied.

Vincent thought quickly. "He or she must be following Fleur. But how would this person have gotten past our sentries?"

"Magicals can use invisibility cloaks or a disillusion spell," Harry replied, already calmer because he was talking with his parents. "But they are not impervious to being discovered as Sebastien found out when he tried to hide out on Mom."

Diana chuckled at the memory, but then became more serious. "How can we detect he or she now, Vincent?"

Tunnel paths, obstacles, and possible routes presented themselves and were rejected within seconds as Vincent thought of the challenge of capturing someone who was operating under a shield of invisibility. Then his eyes opened and he looked at his wife and son.

"The labyrinth. He or she has to be lured to the labyrinth."

Harry caught his father's idea. "I think I could tell Fleur on the pipes to detour to the labyrinth," he said quietly. "She's caught on pretty quickly to the pipe codes."

"Harry, do it," his father replied. "I have preparations to make." With that and a flash of his cloak, he was gone.

Harry began calling out an emergency all clear and then began calling out a quick code calling for Fleur. After a few moments of silence, he heard the answering uncertain taps that bore Fleur's signature. With her on the line, he banged out in slow clear code the notice that she was being followed and to change her route to the labyrinth where he would meet her. When the acknowledgement came, he kissed his mother and then tore off in the same direction as his father.

* * *

_The Tunnels, The World Below_

_Early Evening, August 7, 2001_

(Fleur)

Harry's warning had surprised her and had brought back memories of being stalked in the Black Lake by the grindylows during the TriWizard Tournament. The darkness of the tunnels, hitherto friendly and a sign of the new existence she, Harry, and Hermione were carving out for themselves, now seemed menacing and she remembered anew the mistrust her people, the Veela, gave to caverns and tunnels.

Somewhere behind her, someone magical was following. In front of her, Harry was moving to help her trap this magical in the Labyrinth, an area that she had only visited twice before due to the dark, mysterious nature of the cavern. The only comfort to her was that Vincent was also going to meet them in the same cavern.

(Remus)

A slight hint of fear now tinged the familiar sense of Fleur and the mysterious scent which both seemed familiar yet different and Remus wondered if she somehow had sensed his following her. He thought about the cares he had taken to avoid detection and shook his head in denial. No, walking down these tunnels would be difficult for a creature of the air and fire like a Veela, he thought to himself.

The werewolf within him began snarling himself at first the brick and then the rock tunnel walls. The clanging of the pipes hurt his sensitive hearing and the smells of first dry and then moist air, occasional mold, and a faint metallic odor was also impacting his nostrils. How could anyone move down here, he asked himself, even as the human within him recognized that his inner wolf was reacting to the sense of being confined and trapped?

But the scent beckoned and now he could pick up other trails of that unusual scent. Whomever Fleur was going to see came here more times than just once or twice. It was as if this was a well-traveled highway for this person.

He continued further on, trying to avoid being sidetracked by the other occasions of this scent and instead following the original trail being blazed by Miss Delacour.

(Fleur)

The hand, which grabbed her gently, startled Fleur at first until she heard the familiar voice of Harry and felt his familiar arms wrap themselves around her.

"It's okay now, Fleur, it's okay. Dad's right here and we've got things well under control."

She found herself breathing easier and for the first time was aware of just how fast her heart was beating. A moment later, she saw the familiar form of Vincent and her breathing returned to normal.

In brief low whispers, Vincent signaled to her and Harry the path he wanted them to take to first walk deeper into the Labyrinth and then angle out back towards the Hub.

"For anyone not familiar with this cavern, the lack of light, the fog and the echoes will reduce any advantages an invisible magical might have," Vincent continued whispering. "This time, whoever this person is – he is mine. No one threatens our home, threatens you or Harry, and gets away with it.

"We will discover what this surprise visitor seeks in our world tonight."

Harry led Fleur down the suggested path and Vincent quickly lost sight of them as they moved deeper into the Labyrinth maze. Then he moved in deeper himself and settled himself to wait.

The first indication of someone coming was the sound of rapid breathing back at the entrance to the Labyrinth. Footsteps soon followed and grew louder until whomever's feet the steps belonged to arrived at the Labyrinth entrance.

Then they stopped.

(Remus)

The torch lit tunnels stopped abruptly and now the only thing Remus could see in front of him was a rock walled chamber shrouded in darkness and mist.

_"Lumos" _he cast silently and the entrance to the chamber filled with light.

And reflected back to him in overpowering brightness – the mist was obviously a water-based fog and his lumos spell was reflecting back from the myriads of water droplets in that fog.

The scent continued ahead, but now Remus began to doubt the wisdom of just blindly following the scent through the tunnels. Obviously Fleur knew this area much better than he did and if he was not careful, he could find himself stepping into something dangerous.

Yet the power of the Order oath was pushing him along and he found himself beginning to move forward again, albeit much more slowly and cautiously. He dimmed his light to a small ball so as to minimize the fog's reflective effect and cast out constantly in sweeping circles to avoid any surprises.

Thus the sudden claws at his neck caught him completely by surprise.

(Vincent)

While there was no obvious sign of the intruder, other indicators such as breathing and footsteps were giving away his or her presence and by now, Vincent's senses were fully engaged and alert. He was now the predator, looking to stalk the prey walking ever so closer into the range of his teeth and claws.

The sudden burst of light did not come as a complete surprise to him – he had grown accustomed to magical spells used to create light in the dark and calculated that whoever was down here would find the darkness of the Labyrinth disconcerting to say the least. But the brightness of the reflection off the ever-present fog did surprise.

Still, his empathic sense had picked up the sudden apprehension of the visitor in light of the light's reflection – enough to determine that their visitor was a man. Now it was just a matter of silently moving from one rock outcropping to the next to the next – and then the visitor was only a foot away.

One extension of his hand quietly and his claws stood ready to rip out their unexpected guest's throat.

"Your wand – drop it," he growled in a low clear voice.

(Remus)

"Your wand – drop it,"

The words were nothing in themselves, but the body attached to them as well as the obviously sharp claws at his throat did communicate to Remus – and to his inner wolf. Whoever this being or person was, he had the drop on Remus – and his inner wolf could sense the power, strength and ruthlessness attached to the claws.

"Who are you and who sent you?" the voice repeated once Remus lowered his wand. Remus could swear that the claws were now penetrating the tender skin of his throat.

"Remus Lupin," he said in reply.

"Make yourself visible – or I will assume that when I rip out your throat that whatever magic you are using will cancel out anyway." It was clear to Remus' inner wolf that first whoever was speaking was the Alpha here and that second he would have to give very clear answers.

"I will have to raise my wand to remove the spell," he replied slowly. Then the figure behind him shifted and Remus found himself recoiling in shock. The male's face had fangs bared and he could feel the sinews and muscles in the male's arms in the dim light of his lumos spell.

"I believe the only words I need to hear are Finite Incantetem," the male said in a continued low growl.

Remus found himself wondering how such a mouth could even speak while he was repeating the words to cancel his disillusion spell. Unfortunately with the finite spell cast, his lumos spell also went out – but that did not seem to impede the powerful male with claws still at his throat.

"I ask you again, Remus Lupin, why are you here? Consider your answer carefully – if you want to live."

Remus swallowed – in the darkness the presence of the male beside him seemed to loom larger and occupy more space than it did in the dim light. "I am searching for someone."

"Who?"

Deciding that he was in too deep to turn back now, he continued. "Harry Potter."

The claws now tightened further and Remus could feel a trickle of blood dripping down from where one claw had pierced his skin. Then the voice spoke again in his ear.

"There is no one of that name here. Why were you following Miss Delacour?"

Remus swallowed hard even as the blood continued to trickle down his throat. The part of him under the thrall of Dumbledore's oath did not want to say anything more, but part of him wanted to burst out with the truth. Finally, despite the sweat on his face and the blood pooling now below his shirt, he ground out. "Dumbledore…."

The pressure of the claw lessened and Remus felt two strong hands pull his own arms back and quick knots tied his arms together. "I believe, Mr. Lupin, that we are going to go for a walk to talk to some magicals about this 'Dumbledore' and your search for Harry Potter.

"Do not try anything – I will have to blindfold you." A black cloth was tied gently, but firmly in front of his eyes and everything went dark.

(Vincent)

Remus Lupin did not smell quite right to the leader of the underground community – and he also sensed hidden reserves of strength in the shabbily dressed man. But the most confusing to him was the sense of two people within the same man he picked up through his empathic senses. It was almost as if the man was possessed.

Leading Remus carefully away from the Labyrinth, he said nothing to him, allowing his presence, the darkness and the sounds of the tunnels to gradually wear down any bravado or sense of superiority that Remus might feel because he was a magical. Remus for his part remained silent, attempting to suss out where he was and where he was going by the sounds, but quickly losing his orientation as the two descended deeper into the depths of the world below.

* * *

_Interrogation Chamber, The World Below_

_Approximately 8:00 P.M._

The two men arrived at a chamber that had been prearranged to be a holding cell for any scout that Dumbledore might send. It was far enough away from the Hub that the sights and sounds of the habitable portions of the tunnels could not be easily picked up, but secure enough that a rock fall could quickly seal in whoever their net would capture. Thus, Remus Lupin became the first prisoner in several years of Down Below.

Awaiting them was a small group – Alex Mackenzie the only one who was visible. He had cloaked the others under privacy and notice-me-not spells, thus ensuring that neither Harry, Fleur nor Hermione would be visible to Remus.

Vincent took the first few moments after he arrived in sharing the nature of Remus' capture and the few words they had exchanged. A privacy spell ensured that the still blindfolded werewolf did not hear their discussion.

Alex had little to say other than nod his head at the answers that Vincent had gleaned. But he grew very interested when the lion man went on to describe the dual personas.

He turned and waved a complicated series of spells over the still bound Remus, and then his face grew into a scowl.

"He's under an oath geas – an oath bond, Vincent," the Special Agent reported. At Vincent's confused expression, he continued. "In the ancient days of magic, relations between parties would often be sealed with a magical oath. Thus the master slave relationship or in this case, a lord vassal bond would be sealed with a magical oath that would literally compel the one making the oath to respect the wishes of the 'master' when the 'master' activated it. Mr. Lupin is indeed acting under this oath.

"We know about Mr. Lupin. He's on the list of 'safe' werewolves on the ICW list – he's been vouched for by Albus Dumbledore as a werewolf who has his disease under control. Of course he's been seen as being in Dumbledore's pocket for many years and he is just the type of man who Dumbledore would send to scout out who Harry is."

His face grew pensive as he thought through what he and Vincent had discovered. "But the fact that he appears to be under an oath geas suggests that Dumbledore was forced to activate his oath to ensure that he would undertake this mission. If we could find a way to break the oath, then we might get a clearer insight into Dumbledore's state of mind, what he knows about Harry and what he suspects.

We might even gain an ally – but as it stands now, we cannot question Lupin too deeply – while he is under the oath geas, he will not be able to answer questions that would betray his master and if he is as conflicted as you sensed, questions could actually kill him."

Alex saw Harry and his two companions watching them and a sudden idea came to his mind. "Wells, I do not have sufficient power to break an oath geas placed on Remus Lupin by the power of Dumbledore. But I suspect now that the bindings on your magic were removed long ago and now that you have learned both goblin and wizard magic that you and your two companions might have sufficient power to break even an oath laid by Dumbledore himself."

Harry looked at his two female companions. Both Fleur and Hermione nodded, and then all three looked at Alex. "We're willing to try, but we have no idea what we should be doing," Harry said.

Alex smiled at the three. They were quickly becoming a team – even the way that Hermione stood on Harry's left and Fleur stood on his right told Alex that they were indeed sorting themselves out in their Triad.

"Focus all your magic on Mr. Lupin and cast all together at the same time 'Finite Incantetem". If the combination of your powers are what I think they are, I suspect that the oath geas will be broken."

The three young people looked at one another in a conversation without words, then, as one, they pulled out their wands, pointed them at Remus and with one voice called out, "Finite Incantetem!"

An aura flared blue around Remus and the smell of ozone filled the chamber, then, with a crack, a burnt smell replaced the ozone and Remus fell wordlessly to the chamber floor. The three young people fell backwards seconds later, but did not collapse, instead sat down on the chamber floor appearing to catch their breath.

Alex rushed to them, his wand out, but Harry waved him off. "We're okay – it was just the first time we tried to work our magic together like that. We had to wrestle against whatever the magic that was holding Mr. Lupin – it only gave way when we literally burned it out, overpowering it."

Hermione and Fleur also nodded and then the three young people embraced one another. There was fatigue, but there was also a sense of completeness and joy – they had each tasted each other's magic for the first time together and it felt good.

Alex turned from them to Vincent and the prostrate form of Remus Lupin. He again waved his wand over the werewolf, but the oath geas had been broken. Even Lupin's breathing was less labored.

"I would think that Mr. Lupin will be out for a while due to the breaking of the oath geas," Alex said. "Perhaps we could conjure a bed here and at least allow him to recover on a softer surface than a tunnel floor."

Harry did not have many opportunities to show his magic to his father and he raised his wand to give a demonstration of conjuration, but before he could mentally form the spell, Fleur had beaten him with a smirk.

"Women are always much quicker than men, 'arry," she said with a smirk. Vincent couldn't resist chuckling as he saw the disappointment on Harry's face contrasted with the satisfaction on the face of the French witch.

"You will never win, Harry, against the important women in your life. It is a lesson that you have already learned in regards to your mother and sister; now you have the joy of learning this with Fleur and Hermione," he said, chuckling again.

Hermione was laying Remus on the conjured bed with Alex's help while Harry was speaking with Fleur and Vincent. "I sense that Mr. Lupin will be under for some time due to the power of the magic he experienced," she said after waving her wand over the prostrate man. "I would think at least a day or more."

"I will set wards here to warn us when Mr. Lupin is regaining consciousness," Alex said as he began waving his wand in an intricate pattern. "I suggest that we go and enjoy that dinner that we were considering earlier today – I for one am hungry now."

* * *

_Interrogation Chamber, The World Below_

_August 9, 2001, 10:00 A.M._

Remus' first thought as he woke was the pulling sensation of his arms tied behind his back. He was stiff and sore, and could smell dried blood on his neck. There was a slight itch on his neck where something sharp had pierced his skin – then he remembered.

Remembered the low growl of something big and male that had captured him despite his being disillusioned.

Remembered the claws at his throat and then the cut where one of the claws had pierced his skin.

Remembered the fear as he realized he was in the presence of a true 'beast' – someone who could have killed him without a second's hesitation.

Remembered with shame the conflict between Dumbledore's oath and the desire to flee, to leave these tunnels behind because he was carrying out an old fool's wishes.

Now here he was, bound, blindfolded, his wand gone – but with something missing.

Something that had been missing for a long time.

He was bound, yet for the first time he felt free.

The pressure of the oath had broken – and for the first time in a long time, Remus Lupin, werewolf, wizard, and former Marauder, felt free.

It was at this time that he felt his blindfold being ripped away and he blinked in the sudden brightness of torches shining in his face. His next sight was to see a fanged male who looked like something out of a fairy tale – sharp blue eyes set in a face that combined human and leonine characteristics. He instinctively knew that the fangs visible in the mouth were definitely real.

Then he saw the clawed hands and knew he was in front of the mysterious male who had captured him.

The lion man helped him sit up and place his back against the dark rock wall of the tunnel. Then he studied the werewolf carefully.

"Remus Lupin, who sent you?"

Remus tried to clear his head as the blood rushed back into the rest of his body with the exception of his arms. "Who are you and where am I?"

"My name is Vincent and as you are the invader in my home, it is only right that I ask the questions first, Mr. Lupin. So, again, who sent you and why are you here?" There was a definite hint of impatience now in Vincent's voice.

Remus found himself wondering how Vincent could even form words even as he tried to think of how to answer Vincent. The initial blocks on sharing information that had been imposed by Dumbledore's Order oath was removed, but he was still trying to make sense of things himself.

Still, perhaps honesty would be the best place to start. "I was sent here by Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, a school in Scotland, to find out if Harry Potter is still alive." Let the lion man try to sort that out.

"Hogwarts – that would be Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry?"

Merlin, this lion man knew about magic, Remus swore to himself. But that knowledge would make things a little easier for subsequent conversation. "Yes."

"And who is Harry Potter? Why would this headmaster be looking for someone here in New York City when he is the headmaster of a school in Scotland? And why is Harry Potter so important that you would follow a friend of my family down from the Magical Mall into my home and thus threaten my community?

"Be careful how you answer, Mr. Lupin, as I take threats to my community and family very seriously. Very seriously." With those words, his fangs appeared and Remus swore he heard a low growl.

Then a tall middle-aged man broke into the circle of torchlight. "Vincent, Vincent, please. It does no good to threaten Mr. Lupin. You have done the correct thing and reported this to us at the Magical FBI. Now we can take things from here."

Vincent appeared to growl even louder at the Magical FBI agent. "Mr. Mackenzie, you presume upon our hospitality. While I called you here due to the presence of this magical, you still know that we live by our own laws here – and as we have a good relationship with the goblins of Gringotts, they have offered to help us sift Mr. Lupin's mind and find out by their magic what his purpose is here and why he decided to invade our home."

Mackenzie looked at Lupin with pity in his eyes. "Mr. Lupin, while you are on the approved list of werewolves due to Dumbledore's vouching for you, I will admit that things do not look very good for you right now. You have invaded a protected magical hybrid community as recognized by the Department of Magic of the USA; you have done so while acting under disillusion; you stalked a visiting foreign national – your status will do nothing to protect you from this community's desire for justice and protection if they request it from us.

"And they have very good ties with the goblins – one of the first magical hybrid communities in sometime to do so. The foreign national you were following works for them – and you are probably well aware of how goblins regard their employees."  
Remus said nothing during these comments. He was in a dangerous situation, he admitted to himself. He was well aware of the precarious nature of international laws regarding werewolves - being caught by Vincent entering a magical hybrid community, stalking a Veela employee of Gringotts and attracting the attention of the Magical FBI and the US magical authorities – all spelled potential disaster and even death for him.

But with the breaking of the oath, he no longer felt much loyalty to Dumbledore.

"If I tell you all that I can about my mission and who sent me?"

"Cooperation will be helpful, Mr. Lupin, and Vincent here is more interested at getting at the truth than in seeking justice for your invasion," Mackenzie said quietly. "But you must understand that we will be using veritaserum for our interrogation."

Remus nodded his understanding and his acceptance. At that, Mackenzie waved his wand and his bindings fell away. A goblin now entered with a recording crystal and a vial of clear liquid.

"These are a new invention of our goblin friends – they serve as recording devices to capture testimony for others much as a non-magical video camera would do. So, we ask you to stretch your arms and get a bit more comfortable – then we can begin our interrogation."

Remus nodded, rubbing his arms to get the circulation back into them after having been bound for so long.

And then the questions began.

* * *

_Interrogation Chamber, __The World Below_

_Noon, Same Day_

Remus swallowed the water even as he watched the goblin, Mackenzie and Vincent conversing on the other side of what was obviously a privacy shield. The questions had been surprisingly thorough as if they had already started from a fairly complete knowledge base about the Potters, Harry Potter, and Albus Dumbledore.

They had walked him from his relationship to the Potters and Sirius Black to his failure to look up Harry Potter while he was away from the magical world to the search for Harry and his reaction to Harry's reported death.

Then they had plumbed the depths of his relationship with Albus Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix including his real attitudes towards his current assignment.

Now they were discussing their findings behind the privacy screen.

* * *

"Breaking the oath geas – I will admit Vincent that without your insight into the dynamics of Remus Lupin, we could have ended up killing him due to the conflict between the geas and any veritaserum," Alex said, his hand on Vincent's shoulder.

Vincent found himself regarding the werewolf with some sympathy. "It appears that this Albus Dumbledore's manipulations have ruined more lives than just the Grangers and my son's. How far do his manipulations go?"

Alex sadly shook his head. "A lot farther than I thought, Vincent, and now I can see the real wisdom of Hermione's strategy of a measured approach. Think what Dumbledore could have done if he had learned about Harry's presence without us knowing about his continued efforts."

"What do we do with him now? " Vincent asked.

"I think we use to get some information back to Albus, but that we put him under a magical oath to keep information secret – and perhaps an obliviation to remove the information about coming to the tunnels," Alex replied after thinking for some seconds. "I think we need to allow him to return to Dumbledore, but to restrict the amount of information he brings back to him. Just enough to let the old man know that Harry is dead magically, that Harry Black-Wells wants nothing to do with him or his war in Britain, and that Hermione is the new Head of House Potter."

"Would the magical oath cause the same problem for him that the oath geas caused?" Vincent was concerned that in freeing Remus from one oath that they were putting him into danger again.

"No, the geas is a different kind of oath – it is a compulsion oath that bends the person to their master's will. The oath we are proposing is one that is similar to the one that each of us swore before coming into contact with this world – to simply protect the secret of this world and the secret of Harry."

Vincent nodded. "Perhaps we should render him unconscious, remove him from this world and carry on this conversation with him above. Diana still rents out her loft apartment – we use it occasionally to enjoy the sun and the view of the city during the day."

Alex nodded his head in agreement. "Yes, the less that Remus sees of this world, the better for all of us. While I believe that he is sincere in his rejection of Dumbledore, one must face facts that he has worked for him for a very long time and that it ingrains patterns of thought into the mind."

"I will arrange things up top and notify the young people," Vincent concluded. "I trust that you will arrange for preparing Mr. Lupin for our subsequent meeting."

Alex only nodded before drawing his own wand. Seconds later, an unconscious Remus slumped to the floor.

* * *

_The Bennet-Wells Apartment, NYC_

_4:00 P.M._

To say that Harry and his two companions were nervous about meeting Remus Lupin was an understatement. Harry was still wrapping his head around the fact that one of his birth father's boyhood friends was the one that Dumbledore had sent to scout out whether or not he was still alive. Even with the knowledge that he had been acting under a geas still did not erase the confusion he felt towards this man.

Fleur for her part was upset that this man had stalked her, had followed her under disillusion; had tracked her into a world that she was coming to feel as home. While she and Harry had not yet set any firm dates, and Hermione and Harry still skirting with a January date of their own, she still felt that with the formal recognition of their Triad now in place by all their parents and their larger community, that the world below was becoming home. And now that home had been invaded by someone who could have followed her all the way to her meeting with Harry. She felt violated and angry at the man who had perpetrated this violation.

Hermione for her part felt somewhat smug with her initial strategy appearing to have been justified, but also excited with the discovery they had made in working their magic together. This was an unknown phenomena and she felt they had only just begun to explore where this new relationship and power could go.

Joining them in the upstairs loft were Alex, Vincent and Diana. They had carried the unconscious body of Remus Lupin up from the tunnels and laid him gently on Diana's old couch. Now they were simply waiting for Remus to regain consciousness.

Alex had done a masterful job of obliviation of the memories of Remus stalking Fleur to the tunnels, but leaving the actual memories of the interrogation. Vincent gained new appreciation of Alex's skill as a wizard as well as his humanity in not seeking to obliviate with a bulldozer approach.

"Ennervate," Alex said quietly as he pointed his wand towards Remus. The audience around him was rewarded seconds later with signs of movement as the werewolf lifted his head and opened his eyes.

"That hurt," Remus said quietly, taking in the forms of Vincent, Diana and Alex. "I trust I answered all of your questions to your satisfaction?"

Alex nodded his head, but indicating his wand still held in a defensive posture, laid a hand on Remus. "Lupin, before we make any further decisions in regards to you, you will need to make a magical oath to keep what you learn here secret with the only exceptions being what we allow or want you to share.

"Too many lives depend on the secrets of this community and we would rather kill you or obliviate you completely than put this community at risk."

Remus stared into each of the three adults' eyes for several seconds each before he spoke. "I will need my wand to make the oath. Do you have wording for this oath?"

Alex nodded and handed him a slip of paper. The werewolf cast his eyes on it and then nodded. "Fairly comprehensive, but not threatening. I'll do it."

The MFBI agent handed Remus his own wand and the oath was made. When the blue flash indicating that magic had accepted his oath had subsided, then the curtains were drawn and Harry and his two companions entered.

"I suggest that we all get comfortable for we have a few things to discuss with Mr. Lupin," Alex began. With a wave of his wand, several chair floated in and the now seven adults and young people sat down with Remus in on the couch at the base of the circle.

Alex performed the introductions and the only reaction Remus gave on seeing and hearing Harry's full name was a slight raising of the eyebrows. Still, Alex felt that the werewolf would not miss much.

He then turned to Harry and the two young witches. "Mr. Lupin came here exactly as I suspected an agent of Dumbledore would. It appears that Dumbledore reacted to the sight of the photo as you suggested Miss Granger-Potter and it must have piqued his curiosity as he sent Mr. Lupin to check things out.

"Mr. Lupin was operating under an oath geas which acts as an imperious in forcing the person making the oath to obey the instructions of his or her 'master.' It appears that your exercise of Triad broke the oath geas and Mr. Lupin is free in his own mind for the first time in several years.

"I suggest that we let Mr. Lupin tell us in his own words what his mission was."

Remus nodded his head at Alex's words and began speaking in a low voice. "Albus Dumbledore is still fixated on the whereabouts of my former friends' son, Harry Potter, and refuses to believe that Harry is dead despite the goblins' statement in regards to October 1994. Thus when he saw that photograph in the British Daily Prophet, he automatically felt he needed to take action to confirm whether Harry Potter was indeed alive or dead.

"To this day, I do not understand why Albus is so fixated on Harry Potter. He has been focused on him since he was born and especially since the events of October 31, 1981, when my friends, James and Lily Potter were killed by the Dark Lord, but Harry survived.

"So, here I am, sent here by Albus to determine who H. Wells is and determine if this young man is Harry Potter." Here Remus looked at Harry expectantly.

Harry smiled at Remus. "Then I can tell unequivocally that Harry Potter is dead. Albus Dumbledore killed him on October 31, 1994, and we even have the goblin inheritance tests to prove it."

Squeezing the hands of his two companions, he looked to his mother and father, then back to Remus. "Harry Jacob Vincent Wells was born a new magical house on that same day – although my birth parents were James and Lily Potter, my true parents now are Diana Bennett Wells and Vincent Wells."

Remus was confused. "So you are Harry Potter, no?"

"No, I'm not. I died magically and physically because your Dumbledore was so desperate to get hold of me that he used a marginally dark spell to force me back to Britain. That after he left me with my magic hating relatives in the first place, thereby disregarding the wishes of my birth parents.

"But I am not certain how much I want to tell you, Mr. Lupin," Harry continued. "When I discovered the fact that I was magical last year, I began researching my past and my antecedents – and I discovered the existence of three of my father's friends, two of which he had entrusted to my care should something happen to both he and my birth mother. One I understood could not have taken care of me – Sirius Black, falsely accused of betraying my birth parents, was incarcerated in Azkaban. But you, Mr. Lupin, you were also entrusted with caring for an orphaned Harry Potter. Yet you never appeared, never showed up at my relatives.

"You were remarkably absent from my life, Mr. Lupin. So why should I trust you now?"

Both Hermione and Fleur squeezed Harry's hands as a gesture of comfort. All the other adults in the room could see the werewolf hang his head in shame.

"There is no excuse, Harry, for my absence from your life," Remus began. "I will admit that by the time you were born, I was already a member of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix. Neither your parents nor Sirius ever joined his order directly – something about keeping their options open.

"When your parents were killed, I did ask Albus where you were. He assured me that you were safe and happy – that he had personally taken charge of you and placed you in a loving, caring environment. So, other than the occasional question of how you were doing, I felt no compulsion to find out where you were."

Harry's eyes flashed angrily. "So he never told you that he ignored my birth parents' will? He never told you that he placed me with Vernon and Petunia Dursley?"

Remus' eyes went wide at the accusation. "You ended up with them? James and Lily would never have countenanced that – they were manophobic and positively detested James and Lily. Albus could not have sent you there."

Harry nodded grimly. "Oh yes, he did – all part of some master plan. So you were absent yourself – and you didn't know that by sealing my birth parents' wills, you were deprived of a bequest of a place to live and a significant sum of money to live on. Albus Dumbledore cost you as well as me.  
"Still, the fact is that you came here on his behest and we thought to send a clear message to the old fool back with you. We will not share much of where we live or what I have been doing, but there are certain facts that you need to communicate with the old fool."

With that, Harry told the story of the abuse and of his escape to New York. He summarized the events of October 31, 1994 and the fact of his physical and magical death, producing a copy of the inheritance test made by Gringotts the year before.

"The goblins have confirmed that I am no longer Harry Potter – that magic has determined that Hermione Granger-Potter is the new Head of House Potter. Instead, I am both the head of the Wells house and the head of the Black family – something about being named as such by my godfather.

"I am also an American citizen, twice sworn, once at the age of 13 and the next at the age of 20. As such, both Hermione and I have moved the Black and Potter assets to America and to the Gringotts NY branch.

"Thanks to Dumbledore's manipulations, to his placement of me with magic hating relatives and to my new life and family here, I have no interest in returning to Britain. Britain is no longer my country and this is now my home."

He then turned to his two companions and squeezed their hands again. "Hermione and Fleur have both consented to become my companions and they have agreed to set up their home and hearts here in America.

"This is my home, not over there."

Hermione nodded her head in agreement, and then added. "Mr. Lupin, as current Head of the Potter family, I will honor the bequest my predecessors made in regards to you. But we do this in respect to your past friendship with James and Lily, not your current regard for their son."

Harry gave Remus a hard look. "Can we trust you to give this message just as we told you today? Tell him that Harry Potter is dead at his hand, that his successors are not interested in returning to Britain? Can you tell him this?"

Wordlessly, Remus nodded. Then Vincent growled another warning. "Come again into my world, into my community to threaten my family and my world – you will not return alive, Mr. Lupin."

Remus swallowed again and knew that Vincent was capable of carrying out that threat. He found himself battling an insane urge to present his throat to Vincent as recognition of who the true Alpha was in this community.

Alex got up and led Remus out. "I will speak to Mr. Lupin about getting back to Britain and perhaps setting a few things up before he returns to Britain."

* * *

**A/N: At 11,000 plus words, we felt that here was a good point to end this particular chapter. And for those of you who wondered about a possible confrontation between Vincent and Remus, well, we hope we clarified who the only real Alpha was. Lions trump weak wolves at every time.**

** So let's wait until the next chapter as we gain insight into possible Dumbledore plans and two planes crash into the World Trade Centre. At the same time, we perhaps will see some of the work Alex is up to.**


	24. Chapter 23: Dreams and the Towers

**A/N: As a word of explanation, those of us who are true lovers of the 1987 TV series Beauty and the Beast remember the importance of dreams of foreshadowing or foretelling in the series. This chapter contains a dream of premonition, not the actual events themselves. Our heroes (and heroines) will take appropriate steps to prepare in light of what they have learned.**

**Now, as they say, on with the show.**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Three: Dreams and Towers

_Harry's Chamber, The World Below  
__Morning, September 1, 2001_

The dream started as the two previous ones had. He was in a room – it had the feel of exam rooms the world over. Nervous students, lists of exam times and locations, people reviewing notes or reading last minute pages in textbooks, people reviewing wand gestures and motions -

the wand motions told him before the colorful clothing did that this was a magical exam room.

He himself seemed to be sitting in a chair, looking over his notes on Transfiguration and the only thought in his mind was the fact this was the last exam he would write or practice to complete his OWLs. He recalled the hours of drill and practice that Hermione had forced him to undertake – when it came to studies, the woman was possessed.

At first he did not notice the strange looking old man who had entered the room. After all, in a room full of strangely dressed people what was one more person – even if he looked like a picture book version of Merlin and he had the most lurid colored robes he had ever seen. It was not until the man was standing directly in front of him that his dream self appeared to take notice of him.

"Harry Potter?"

Although this was only a dream, he could still recall the anger that rose up when he put a name to the old man in front of him. He could readily guess who he was – the several descriptions of him given by Hermione, Fleur and Sebastien had left no doubt. That plus all the things that had been shared about him came to mind the moment he opened his mouth. But Harry recalled his decision not to tip his hand.

"Excuse me?"

"Harry Potter?" the old man repeated.

The spirit of pranksters past stirred up within him and he looked around himself to the right and left, then turned back to the old fool. "I'm sorry, but there doesn't appear to be a Harry Potter here. Have you enquired at the registration desk?"

The old man's eyes flashed for a second and then a twinkle returned. "My apology. I had assumed you had still kept up your birth name, Harry. I'm Albus Dumbledore and I have been searching for you for a very long time.

"I don't know you and I don't recall giving you permission to use my first name. What can I do for you?" In his dream, Harry's cold tone in voice and body came through loud and clear. However, Dumbledore appeared to ignore Harry's attitude.

"Harry, my boy, I was a friend of your parents and was even your magical guardian until you disappeared. I was so disappointed when you failed to appear at Hogwarts back 10 years a go and I have spent many years worrying about you and searching for you.

"Then when my old friend Remus Lupin told me that you had been found, I rejoiced and when I found out through my ICW connections that you were taking your OWLs, I volunteered myself to become your Transfiguration examiner.

"After all, I am a Master in Transfiguration and I felt it was the least I could do for the son of my old friends," There was now an expectant look in the old man's eyes and in his dream, Harry remembered feeling some compulsions urging him to trust the old grandfatherly man.

However, he recalled shaking his head to clear off all outside influences and he then replied in the same hard tone. "I do not accept your 'volunteering' on my behalf. And you have no right to call me Harry."

There was a disappointed look in the old man's eyes, but somehow, to his dream self, the disappointment was only skin deep.

"I regret that I do not have the relationship with you that I should have had, Mr. Potter," he said more formally. "You would have been my student at Hogwarts and I would have had the opportunity over several years and helped you to adjust to the wizarding world.

"However, let us start anew and fresh, Mr. Potter. Will you allow me to help you with your OWL practical in Transfiguration?"

"NO! And it is not Mr. Potter, but Mr. Wells," Harry was firm on that regard.

The disappointed look returned and Harry felt a subtle compulsion as well as a light touch on his mind. He looked away; severing what he knew was a legilimency touch.

"Stay out of my head, old man. I think we're done her," he got up as if to leave.

"Mr…. Wells, I found some important mementos of your parents. May I at least give those to you?" Dumbledore tried again.

Intrigued despite of himself, Harry nodded.

"May I suggest that we step out of this reception room to an empty testing room?" So Harry got up and followed, figuring that Dumbledore would not try anything here.

The old man opened the door and ushered Harry inside the empty room before reaching into his robes and pulling out a rubber duck. "Mr. Wells, could you hold this please while I search for those mementos?"

Harry took the rubber duck, wondering for a second why an old man would be carrying such an item, before he heard Dumbledore say "Portus", saw the duck glow blue and felt a hook grab him by the navel.

"For the greater good, my boy," was the last thing he heard.

The next clear image of his dream was coming to on a stone floor of a cold, dank room that could only have been a dungeon. The damp walls, the heavy stones and the chains hanging in one corner gave proof to that idea.

He heard movement behind him and turned to see Dumbledore whipping out his wand and uttering "Petrificus Totalus." His body froze and did not resist as Dumbledore expertly frisked his body and pulled out his wand.

"I am so sorry, my boy, for this subterfuge, but the greater good demands that I move things back to where they would have been had you come to Hogwarts.

"Now, let's see what you have been doing and where you have been for the past eleven or so years." With that he turned his blue eyes on Harry's emerald orbs and Harry's dream self felt as if someone had begun walking through his mind.

Immediately Harry threw up impressive walls in a bid to keep the unwanted mental intrusion out. The old man applied more force, but Harry's goblin teachers had trained him well. What followed was a stalemate that only broke when Dumbledore lifted an ancient looking wand and magic flooded through Harry's mind.

Even then, the hidden fastnesses that Harry had created were still holding out. Behind these walls were hidden Harry's core personality, the specifics about his family, his community and his relationship and dreams of Hermione and Fleur. However the mental projection of the old man was walking through the rest of his mind.

"This will not do. This will definitely not do," Harry heard the old man say again and again.

Finally, his head splitting from a massive headache, he felt Dumbledore withdraw and look at him with sorrowful eyes. "I regret the pain you experienced Harry. I regret so much although they were necessary steps to prepare you for your destiny.

"And now I regret what I must do to you to bring you back to the path you need to take to realize your destiny.

"You will experience some pain, but I can assure you that at the other end you will find a grateful world ready to receive their long lost savior."

He lifted the old wand again and uttered two words, "Tabula Rasa!"

The dream had mercifully blacked out the pain he felt as the spell took hold and what followed were disjointed images and the sense that he was an unwilling passenger on a train speeding down the track to its doom.

_Image 1:_

In the dream, he could feel his body standing stiff and tall before the crowd of robed witches and wizards. The venue was a large hall in front of a statue showing a wizard and witch as the center of attention of a crowd of adoring magical creatures.

Dumbledore was addressing the crowd and the sound of triumph in his voice was unmistakable even if he tried to speak in a humble tone. "My fellow citizens, I take great pride in unveiling the Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived – the one and only Harry Potter, here returned to our fair island to take up the fight against the Dark Lord.

"While he does not have a lot to say, as he is busy training with our teaching staff at Hogwarts to face Lord Voldemort, he does have some words of wisdom for us."

He then turned to Harry, subtly waving his wand as he did so and Harry heard his own voice speak in a slow, mechanical tone.

"I am happy to be back home with my people and I urge all British witches and wizards to rally behind our Chief Warlock in this time of crisis. I call on Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters to surrender – we, your magical family, want to embrace you with open arms.

"I call on Minister Bones to cease her policy of retaliation against those dark forces who have temporarily lost their way. Reconciliation, not violence, is the way to rebuild our society."

Even as several reporters and people were calling out his name and his internal voice was screaming at Dumbledore in fury, he felt himself turn away and walk back following his master.

_Image 2:_

He was now before a group of some forty purple robed individuals, Dumbledore having finished speaking. "Let us now listen to Harry James Potter as he speaks his mind on his future."

Again he rose and began speaking in a low, but clear voice. "Members of the Wizengamot, I wish to thank Chief Warlock Dumbledore for his tireless search for me and his care of me once I was rescued. It is with feelings of enormous gratitude that I wish to advise this body that I have signed the apprenticeship papers offered to me by Albus Dumbledore which will allow me to learn at the feet of such a great and humble man."

A sudden shout broke the silence that greeted these words. "Aurors, please check to see if Mr. Potter is under any imperio or other potions." A woman with short grey hair and a monocle stepped forward and said in a low voice to Dumbledore. "You've already cost me 50 aurors, Albus, and you may be costing us the war. Are you so foolish as to give up the only strategy that has been keeping Tom at bay?"

The Aurors were halted before they could get too close to Harry by members of the Wizengamot. "Mr. Potter has given us his statement and that is enough for us, Madame Minister. If you wish our support, then you will have to fall in behind our Chief Warlock and his apprentice, The Boy Who Lived.

Even some of the Aurors appeared now to waver and Minister Bones was forced to retreat even as Albus Dumbledore gave a smile of triumph.

_Image 3:_

"And Harry, I present you to your new bride, the new Lady Potter, Ginevra Molly Potter," the aged Headmaster said, his face beaming with pride. A family of redheads surrounded him, Harry and a petite red haired woman in white.

His suddenly more normal voice broke through the congratulations. "Headmaster, what of the current Lady Potter, my future consort?"

He could sense part of his mind breaking free, if only for a moment. Then he heard a screech from the petite woman's mother. "Albus? I thought the spells and potions had removed all of those memories."

Albus' face became more serious. "We may have to entice young Miss Granger here – to 'persuade' her for the greater good of course."

All the while, Harry's inner self was raging against the Headmaster and the situation in which he found himself. Dumbledore was indeed worse than they had imagined.

_Image 4:_

The tall thin man with pale skin, baldpate and red eyes resembled more a snake than a man even as he advanced with his large force behind him. "So this is the champion that caused my downfall twenty plus years ago. Dumbledore, I dealt with your first 'boy-who-lived' and I will easily deal with this young fool."

Dumbledore stood behind Harry with the members of the Order of the Phoenix, their wands all lowered, as they watched the two figures square off against one another. Both Harry and Voldemort circled one another for a few moments before Harry pointed his wand towards the ground.

"My master tells me that in order to gain victory, I must be prepared to die, Tom Riddle. The power that you know not is love and when I rise again from the killing curse as I did before, you will know that you have no more power." Harry could tell that he was speaking as the automaton once again.

Voldemort only laughed in a cold, high voice. "Well then, Mr. Potter, let me ensure that you be reunited with your family. _AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

With a sudden green flash, Harry felt his soul rip from his body and then blackness descend. The last words he heard were "Dumbledore, you old fool! This time Mr. Potter is truly dead and you will be next. AVADA KEDAVRA!"

For the third morning in a row, Harry woke up with a start. The details of the dream were so clear that his heart was pounding and sweat beaded his forehead when he woke up. My God, he thought to himself, the reality of the dream was so strong that he could remember every detail and the end of the dream – he must have died.

Was it just a dream? He had only two months before been trying to help calm Erin down after she had been dreaming about the Twins falling. But should he say something to anyone? If so, who should he tell?

His musings were taken out of his control when he heard a knock on the chest of drawers by his door. "Harry, are you okay? I heard some tossing and turning as I walked by and this sounds like the third time this week," his mother asked.

What was it about mothers, he wondered. "Why did you come down this tunnel, Mom? It is a bit out of your way."

"Just a little habit I developed over the years since we adopted you – you had some issues with nightmares when you were younger and I always want to know how my children are sleeping." she replied.

Even while he blushed at the reminder, he felt warm inside. His mother still cared for him. That gave him the courage to open up about the dreams.

Within the first minutes of his telling of the dreams, Diana felt a spike of worry. Harry probably did not remember his earlier guesses in regards to Joe and Jenny's daughter Cathy. Nor would he have known about Vincent's occasional premonitions that manifested themselves as dreams. But she remembered.

Oh yes, she remembered.

She remembered the dream Vincent had had when he was searching for his son – the dream of a snowstorm coming to the tunnels and of tunnel inhabitants freezing. Then Gabriel, his lover's murderer and kidnapper of his son Jacob – he had sent Snow, a hired assassin, to attempt to kill Vincent and two tunnel dwellers had died.

Yes, she had heard about Vincent's premonitions. And now her son Harry had them as well.

She listened to the entire dream and was startled at how clear the memory was. Normally dreams would begin to fade the moment the dreamer awoke – it was almost unheard of for a dreamer to remember a dream as clearly as Harry did now.

"Harry, I think it's not a dream," she began. "I think it might be a warning of some kind – and I think that we need to talk to Alex as soon as possible about it."

Her worries grew when she saw her son nod his head in agreement. This obviously had Harry worried as well.

* * *

_Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts,  
__Iverness, Scotland  
__September 2, 2001_

Albus Dumbledore was inwardly frustrated, but outwardly continued to play the grandfatherly host as he poured tea for his werewolf guest. Lupin had been in his office for at least ten minutes and only now was coming to the point of the summons.

He had recognized immediately when Remus had entered his office that the Order oath no longer applied to him. There was a lightness to his steps, a smile on his face and even a trace of insolence and mistrust in his features. Oh yes, while he would not try to perform Legilimency on the werewolf as they were notoriously difficult to read, he had perfected the art of observation and knew enough to recognize when a major personality change had occurred. Something over in New York City had broken the oath geas and he suspected Remus would not take out the oath again. But he still could give him answers – and he desperately needed answers.

"So, Remus my boy, did you encounter the young Mr. Wells?" he asked behind a mask of gentility.

The werewolf only smiled and then finally nodded. "Yes, I did, Albus. I also met his parents, Miss Granger-Potter and Mlle Delacour who are his two companions and consorts."

Albus barely avoided a jerk of surprise. "Consorts?"

"Yes, Albus, it appears that our young Mr. Wells is romantically entwined with both Miss Granger-Potter and Mlle Delacour with the blessings of his parents and the parents of the two young ladies in question."

"Remus, my boy. I hate to press the issue, but I need to know. Is he Harry Potter?"

Remus could only smile inwardly. Thank Merlin, the oath geas was gone and now he would not have to lie. "No, Albus, he is not Harry Potter."

The werewolf watched as Albus appeared to sink into himself. The look of disappointment was clear on his face. But he had promised Alex and the Wells family that he would deliver the message that he had been sent to deliver.

"However, he was Harry Potter – once – until you killed him. And he sent me back to you with a very clear message – leave him alone."

It was not often that Remus could catch Dumbledore in shock, but for a brief moment, the only expression on the old headmaster's face was shock and surprise.

But only for a moment and then the twinkle had returned.

"He cannot be once a Potter and now someone else, Remus. He was born a Potter and he will remain a Potter until he dies." The tone was now that of a professor lecturing a difficult student.

"On October 31, 1994, while you were casting your Blood Summoning Ritual at Hogwarts, it impacted a young Harry in New York City – it forced him to the wall of his school, where because he was unable to respond to the magic of the ritual, magic exacted the ultimate price. His heart stopped and his lungs stopped – Harry Potter died just as the goblins announced later that year."

Dumbledore was shaking his head. After all his plans, after all his attempts to control the future, to be beaten by his own Blood Summoning Ritual – NO! Remus was overlooking something. Remus was missing something.

Remus gave the old man a few minutes to digest his statement, then added. "I even have proof from the goblins at Gringotts NY – Harry Jacob Vincent Wells undertook an inheritance test last year shortly after he discovered the magical world in the U S and it clearly showed that he died and then was reborn as Harry Black Wells, magical heir of Sirius Black and also the founder of his own new house.

"Miss Hermione Granger underwent the same magical inheritance test and she tested true as the new Potter Head of House and her younger brother as the new Heir to the Potter House. She and Mr. Wells are related eight generations back through a squib Potter relative.

"And before you doubt my word, I have certified copies signed off by both the goblins at Gringotts NY and by the US Magical FBI."

Dumbledore's face had taken on the expression of a gold fish – the flurry of news and information was temporarily overwhelming the older man. Then his face hardened and he asked the one burning question that his mind would not let go.

"How could he die and then come back to life?"

Remus gave him a genuine smile. Here was something that the old headmaster did not know. "The Muggles have developed technology that allows them to restart a heart after it has stopped beating. Harry's mother had arrived just as the magic and his heart failed and she was able to keep air moving and his heart moving until the Muggle healers could restart his heart.

"When his heart started up again, the healers noticed a black substance oozing from his scar and since that time, his scar has faded to almost nothing."

Thoughts were racing through Dumbledore's mind even as Remus was speaking. If Harry had truly died, then there was a strong possibility that the prophecy was worthless or would be considered fulfilled. In some insane way, the account that Remus had shared did make some sort of sense. If indeed Harry had died, then his house and family magic would have flowed to the next Potter in line and Dumbledore knew well enough that Miss Granger could have a potential connection to the Potter family.

But too much rested on the need for the prophecy to be fulfilled properly and he refused to believe that Fate would be so cruel as to throw away his interpretation of the prophecy. Harry had to be alive.

"So you could not convince Harry to come here and tell me this himself, Remus?" the old man said in a disappointed tone.

"Albus, Mr. Wells had a clear message – along with the Magical FBI, the goblins, his consorts and his family. He is willing to let bygones be bygones, but he is not interested in returning to Magical Britain any time soon. He is an American citizen, twice over, has a home and family in the U S and does not consider Britain home.

"And if I were you, I would honor that request."

A disquieting thought suddenly burst upon Dumbledore's consciousness. What if Harry had died, but the soul fragment from Tom Riddle had not. What if Remus had been talking to a manifestation of Riddle? Tom had been an eloquent wizard in his youth and he could easily fool someone like Remus. He, Albus Dumbledore, would be much more difficult to fool.

"I would need to verify Harry's story for myself, Remus. There is information that I have not shared with anyone else before, but of which I was aware from the day James and Lily were killed by Tom. Harry not only survived the killing curse, but he also received a fragment of the Dark Lord's soul, a fragment that was lodged in Harry's scar.

"I am afraid that if Harry and his magic died due to the unfortunate application of the Blood Summoning ritual that this would given Tom's soul fragment the chance it would have been waiting for a long time – the chance to possess Harry's body and his magic."

Remus instinctively drew back at Dumbledore's words. Harry possessed – that was ridiculous. There was no dark echo in Harry nor would he have attracted the love and support of Hermione or Fleur if there had been. Dumbledore was just reaching for straws, anything to avoid dealing with the message sent by Harry and his family.

Before he could voice his opposition to Dumbledore, the old man raised his hand. "I am aware that you believe that Harry is not possessed nor a dark lord in training. However, in this case, and being the student of Tom for as long as I have been, I will for now reserve judgment on what you have said and what I think may be possible.

"I regret your breaking the oath, Remus, and unfortunately, I may have to withdraw my prior support for you as a safe lycanthrope for international travel. Without the bindings of the oath, I cannot vouch for your actions to the larger international community.

"For now, I would ask you to leave me as I must meditate on the news you have brought me today."

This was obviously a dismissal and Remus got the distinct impression that he had suddenly disappeared as far as Albus was concerned. It appeared that Alex Mackenzie had made the proper prediction as to what Albus Dumbledore would do.

As he rode the staircase down, he only hoped that Albus would not do anything stupid.

* * *

_Special Liaison Room, The World Below_

_September 2, 2001_

One advantage of having meetings underground was that one could easily lose track of what time it was up top, Sebastien Delacour thought to himself as he, Apolline and Fleur made it down the central staircase to the special room where Vincent and the goblins conferred on a monthly basis on mutual issues affecting their two communities. He and his wife were coming to appreciate their visits to the underground community because there was always a surprise around every corner and the depths of culture and knowledge in the community never ceased to amaze him.

But today was not an occasion of pleasure. Alex had issued a tersely worded message saying that Sebastien was needed in New York to help the Triad and their anchors as the parents now called themselves understand what Alex considered true seeings by Harry.

When they entered the chamber, Fleur left her parents to take her now familiar place at the Harry's right as Hermione was already doing on his left. It was obvious the bushy haired brunette was already trying to calm Harry down by holding his hand and rubbing his back. Sebastien and Apolline sat near them, taking their seats between the Grangers and Vincent and Diana. Ales was the only human who sat alone and Snagtooth occupied the place next to him.

When the Delacours had taken their seats, Alex reached up behind his chair and placed a large bowl on the table. "This, my friends, is called a pensieve and this specific model can project a common memory so that all of us in this room can see it."

He looked at each person sitting around the table and nodded to himself. Harry had a good family and great friends – he was going to need them in the coming days if Harry's dreams were true.

Everyone was looking at the pensieve and then back at him. He looked to Harry and Harry nodded his head slightly. "I asked Harry to give me a copy of the memory of the dream he had three times. When Diana contacted me and described her concerns and some of the content of Harry's dreams, I assumed that it was most likely a true seeing as seeing appears to run in the Wells family."

Hermione interrupted. "What is a true seeing?"

Sebastien replied. "A true seeing is when a person can see a series of events as they would occur if the underlying events would not change. The events covered by the seeing are not set in stone – they can be changed if one understands what is going on."

"Miss Mediwitch, I have received several 'true seeings' both before and after I met Harry and fathered Erin. My 'seeings' were warnings and I have learned to trust them – to ignore them would be to put myself and those I love in great danger." Dan and Emma couldn't help smiling at Hermione's blush at hearing Vincent's nickname for her – even though Vincent's tone was serious, he still found the time to gently tweak their daughter.

Hermione nodded her understanding and then turned to Alex. "Can we just play this now? Harry is really upset with the way the dream plays out and how it ends."

Harry then spoke in a low voice. "I wasn't strong enough, I wasn't strong enough to stop him. I tried so hard, I fought so hard to stop him, but I couldn't stop the spell. And then I had to see what he did with my body and my voice; I had to watch as he sent me to die."

Both Fleur and Hermione had embraced Harry by this time and the parents around the table held back tears. There was nothing they could say to Harry as they lacked the context to understand his words, but the warmth and acceptance of both of his companions succeeded where mere words would have failed. Harry eventually lifted his head and, pointing to the pensieve, growled to Alex, "Play it!"

Silence fell upon the people sitting in the room after the last Avada Kedavra was heard. Finally a French voice broke the stillness. Batarde. Salaud!.

"I take it you have some opinions on this, Sebastien," Alex said dryly. "Can you authenticate this memory?"

Sebastien took a few seconds to compose himself. "I have some skill in seeing true seeing, mes amis, and yes, I believe this is a true seeing. It also fits with what I know about the old fool. He works this way and he would rather destroy a person and his personality to ensure that events move as he thinks they should than take a chance that events will unfold as destiny says they should.

"But I do not think you understand what he would permit if his actions are allowed to occur as this seeing shows us. He would undercut the current Minister of Magic, suggest a policy of reconciliation with the Dark Lord, and send Harry out to die at the Dark Lord's hand. Result – victory in Britain by the Dark Lord.

"No, this is very believable and we should ensure that this does not happen."

Diana was quick to link Harry's earlier comments to what they had seen in the pensieve. "Harry, you feel that you let everyone down by not being strong enough to resist Dumbledore's spell?"

Harry nodded mutely even as both young women tightened their grip on him.

"Harry, the spell Dumbledore used should have wiped out your entire memory, yet your occlumency skills were strong enough that you were able to maintain a fortress in your mind that he could not penetrate. And at the 'wedding', you even broke through the conditioning – Harry, what you demonstrated in this seeing was powerful mental magic," Alex said.

Vincent growled out his next words – the sight of a strange old man wiping out his son's memories and leading him eventually to his death awoke the protector in the heart of the leonine man. "How soon would this take place and how can we act to ensure that this does not take place?"

"I would suggest from the strategy that we have been following in regards to Harry and his preparations that it would occur next month, on the last day of the OWL testing for home schooled students," Alex replied. "And now that we have an idea of his strategy, we can take active steps to ensure he is not successful, but instead that we begin to bring him down."

"How would you do this?" Dan wanted to know.

"First of all, for Albus Dumbledore to attempt this kidnapping from an ICW sponsored event is a definite breach of the law as well as of tradition. ICW testing has always been considered sacrosanct, a neutral ground where no matter what faction someone may belong to, one has equal access to ICW resources," Alex began.

"So you are suggesting wards and an invisible presence at the OWLs during the entire week?" Sebastien asked.

"Yes, that plus warning the British Minister of Magic now and warning the head of ICW relations in this country,"

"Just be aware that the events portrayed are typical of Albus' strategy," Sebastien replied, then addressing the whole group. "Albus likes to gather information to himself and hang on to it. If he could gain control over Harry quietly, on the sly, that would be best for him – then he could program him, set him on the path he believes Harry should have been on and follow behind to make sure that Harry does not stray from it.

"We can see from the events in this seeing that his strategy is clear – first, present Harry as Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, which effectively will tip the balance between the Ministry and Dumbledore in his favor. This would allow Albus to present his message of reconciliation and undercut the strong responses that the British Ministry has been taking against the Death Eater terrorists.

"He would then ensure that he secures Harry to himself by any means possible and the use of an apprenticeship contract would be a masterful stroke. Thus he could then encourage his supporters to resist even the Minister who would be acting as a reactive force to the news of Harry's return.

"A connection to the Weasleys would be seen again as a masterful stroke. That family has long been seen as supporters of Albus and of the Light – tying Harry to them would ensure the family is loyal to Albus and opens a possible door to access to the Potter wealth to Albus and the Weasley family.

"But why he would want Harry to die at the Dark Lord's hand…of course – the soul fragment. He knows about the soul fragment and believes that only killing Harry by Voldemort's hand would ensure that the soul fragment would be dead. Of course."

Harry was shaking at the depths of the potential manipulations that Dumbledore was planning. "But would informing the Minister, setting up wards and ensuring the ICW is aware be enough to stop the old fool? I have no wish to deny my family or pretend to be someone I am not.

"As well, I have no wish to ever deny my own companions," he continued, patting the hands of both Hermione and Fleur. Their only response was to squeeze his hand in return and then look back to the other adults.

Sebastien was smiling as he saw the three – Apolline had confirmed earlier that the bonds between the three were growing ever tighter and thicker. Soon it would be too late to break the Triad bond. "I believe, Harry, that once Albus' plan is discovered and made public that a kidnapping plan will no longer work and it will force the old spider to come out into the light of day and be exposed.

"Then his plans will have to be more public and thus more easily countered."

Alex tried to reassure all of the Triad members and parents. "Now that we have a pretty clear idea of what Albus is thinking of doing, we can take appropriate steps. I will ensure that wards are set up around the OWL testing centre for all the OWL exams – so that no portkey, no apparition nor any other form of magical travel will work. I will also ensure that MFBI agents will be there at the exam centre itself.

"Lastly, I believe it is time we contact the British Minister of Magic and let her know about Harry – the main points anyway. She needs to be forewarned."

A look around the table told Alex that he had the support he needed. Preparations would be made.

* * *

_Wizengamot Chambers, Ministry of Magic_

_September 4, 2001_

"And so I rise, my esteemed colleagues, to propose a new law that will ensure that future Heads of Houses will be adequately trained in the assumption of their responsibilities and in knowledge of the basics of magic," Albus began.

This was a role he enjoyed – the respect of his supporters, the cut and thrust of political debate, the discussion over laws. He needed this to pass – if what little information that Remus had shared with him was correct, Harry was about to complete his OWLs and that had always been a rite of passage for someone on the way to adulthood in the magical world.

While this rite of passage was more traditional than actual law, it was completion of OWLs that was the bare minimum for someone to be able to leave a magical school. That and coming of age at 17 were the two criteria official or unofficial for someone to be considered an adult in the British magical world.

He did not want Harry to be considered an adult in the British magical world. No, if what he was planning was going to work, then he had to have a law in place that would put Mr. Potter in legal limbo until he could compel Harry to sign whatever indentures or apprenticeship agreements he, Albus, felt necessary to tie the boy to his destiny.

"You have in front of you a copy of the proposed law and its implications. In my humble opinion, and of course I defer to the collected wisdom of this august body, no witch or wizard should ascend to the Headship of a Magical House without legalizing the requirement of both their OWLs and that they be of age."

Fortunately for Albus, only his supporters were in the chamber today. One elderly man, Elphius Hillcastle, raised his wand. "Why now, Chief Warlock? Our current system has worked well before."

"We live in dangerous times, my esteemed colleague and…" Let the battle begin, Albus almost smiled to himself. He would allow debate, but only until it was time to vote. Mr. Potter had to be in his hands before he completed his OWLs, but then he would be guided properly.

* * *

_Minister of Magic's Office, Ministry of Magic_

_September 5, 2001_

The sealed diplomatic envelope made through several layers of security, having been scanned for spells, portkeys, delayed curses, hexes or dark materials and now a very tired Amelia Bones slit the envelope open with her wand. Good, she thought to herself, whoever sent this had tuned it to her magical signature only.

Peering inside, she saw only one sheet of the white bond paper the Americans favored for their diplomatic correspondence. Obviously they had not gotten the memo from Supreme Mugwump Dumbledore encouraging ICW countries to return to traditional quill and parchment. Or perhaps, they had gotten the memo and simply turned their noses up at it, as they were wont to do with rules they felt were stupid.

Pulling out the page, she spread it on her desk, casting one last set of detection spells on it. There she got a surprise – an albeit pleasant surprise, but a surprise nonetheless. She recognized these two magical signatures – signatures from happier days. Alex Mackenzie and Sebastien Delacour – two people she had enjoyed working with in the past and with whom she would not mind working in the future. So what would they be doing sending her a letter. To satisfy her curiosity, she began to read.

**_Dear Minister or Madam Bones (or Amelia)_**

**_That is if you are not too large for the seat you so ably occupy, especially in these dark times._**

**_We are in receipt of news that requires a face-to-face meeting – this is a game changer for you and the war and we must work together to keep a certain crooked long nose out of these affairs._**

**_A suggestion – we are willing to meet you in Dublin tomorrow at 12:00 at the Witches Cauldron. Please come alone or bring only one other that you can trust implicitly._**

**_Just write yes on this paper and it will magically inform us on the other end._**

**_Yours in magical justice_**

**_Alexander Mackenzie, Magical FBI_**

**_Sebastien Delacour, Departement des affaires etrangeres de la France_**

Figures they would begin with their humor. This was one of the surest signs to her that this missive came from her two old friends. It brought back memories of a drunken binge at the Three Broomsticks where she had gotten sucked into a discussion as to the relative difference between witches and wizards, specifically in terms of certain body parts. Even now, it brought both embarrassment and an insane urge to laugh.

So they had news of a game changer – that could only mean in relation to the three sided war that seemed to have settled down into a stalemate although she was still wondering why Albus had suddenly called together a meeting of his rump Wizengamot to push through a law requiring putative Heads of Houses to have both reached the age of majority _and_ obtained their OWLs as a basic minimum prior to obtaining their house headship. What was the point and why had his trained seals gone along with this, she wondered.

She trusted these two and thus it boiled down to one question – who could she invite to go with her. It came down to one name – Kingsley Shacklebolt. He had once been a strong supporter of the old man, but after the Blood Summoning ritual debacle in 1994, he had turned his back on him and when she had become Minister, had sworn not only the standard oath, but also a personal wizard's oath to the Ministry and to her personally.

She would have to call him in later today to explain the sudden change in assignment, but in the meantime, any suggestion that could end this current stalemate sounded like something worth exploring.

She wrote quickly and decisively _Yes_ only to see the letters turn golden and then disappear.

It was now time to organize a trip to Dublin.

* * *

_ICW Examination Office, __Boston, MA_

_Same Time_

"And you are certain of this? This would be the worst violation of our independent status in over a century," William Halverson, ICW Exam USA Director, said sharply. He was clearly not happy.

"Do you think I like it, Bill?" Alex replied. He had just filled Bill in on a suspected plot to capture one of their prospective students for the next month's exams, but had not given him Dumbledore's name.

"So what are you asking of us, Mr. Mackenzie?" Halverson asked.

"Your silence for now and your permission to set up anti-Portkey, anti-Apparition, and anti-Floo wards around the exam centre during the October testing week. We will also have agents in place, but they will be disillusioned or under invisibility cloaks."

"I can't say that I like it, but you are sure of this?"

"Almost certain enough to name the person who will attempt the kidnapping. But as you know, we can do nothing until we have caught him or her in the act."

Halverson sighed. He was not happy to see security tightened in what had been a hitherto sacrosanct examination process, but he imagined the scandal that could result if someone was actually kidnapped from the exam centre. No, he had to cooperate.

Wordlessly he nodded his head and signed the recommendation three minutes later. Things were lining up nicely.

* * *

_Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts  
Inverness, Scotland  
__8:00 A.M., __September 6, 2001_

Albus loved when a plan was beginning to come together. He had just visited with his Potions Master Severus and had picked up the control potions he needed for the successful neutralization of Tom's soul fragment in Harry. The law had been passed as he had hoped and as far as legal justification, that was now ready.

Now he held in his hand the final exam schedule for home-schooled students for the ICW administered OWLs in Boston, USA and he had even chosen his date – the transfiguration exam on October 5.

He had two final decisions to make – which robes would he wear to meet Harry Potter after 20 years and which portkey would he use – the rubber duck or his newest sock puppet, the kangaroo from the Australian representative to the ICW. Decisions, decisions, decisions.

* * *

_The Witches Cauldron, Dublin, Ireland_

_Noon, September 6, 2001_

When Amelia entered the surprisingly modern pub with Shack, she glanced around for the familiar faces of Alex or Sebastien. She thought that she would not be staying there to discuss their 'game-changer' but they would have to establish contact with her to have her come to a new location.

Thus, when the old house elf came up to them, she almost ignored it, but then looked at the elf carefully. In place of the usual towels, this house elf was wearing a French beret with an American flag T-shirt – not common wear for Irish house elves.

The elf carefully waved his hand over the two of them before asking them to each take his hand. As soon as they did so, with a pop, they were gone.

Only to materialize in the sanctuary of a ruined church. Blinking in the sunlight after transitioning from the darker pub, Amelia saw two familiar figures approaching.

"What the bloody…."

Alex handed Sebastien a galleon. "You were right. Amelia can't start a conversation where she is not in control without swearing." Sebastien only smiled.

The two men embraced Amelia warmly – even to Shack, the vibes between the three spoke of long friendship and shared battle between them. Even when Amelia lightly struck Sebastien, it was not a vicious blow, but rather gestures exchanged between battle comrades.

"What a trick, gentlemen," she said after she had calmed down a bit. "Why all the secrecy?"

"Simple – we are trying to keep the knowledge that we know what the Chief Warlock is up to quiet for now, but we wanted you to know," Sebastien replied. Indicating Shack, his eyebrows went up in what was clearly a question.

"I trust Kingsley Shacklebolt with my life," Amelia replied. "He was with Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix, but left after that debacle with the Blood ritual. He has since sworn an oath both to the Ministry and to me."

Alex and Sebastien looked at one another and then nodded. He then turned to Kingsley. "I've heard of you, Shack, even on our side of the water. Could you set up some privacy and anti eavesdropping wards, please?"

As Kingsley was performing his task, Alex came up beside Amelia and quietly passed her a note. He then stepped back, allowing her to read.

_Harry Potter died magically on October 31, 1994, but came back to life as Harry Wells the same day with new magic and a new house identity. Albus just found out and plans to kidnap Mr. Wells to transform him into his version of Harry Potter._

Amelia read the message twice not quite understanding what she was reading. "Are you serious?" she asked the two men as Kingsley returned.

"Very – seeing as my daughter is one of his 'intendeds'," Sebastien said with a serious face. "Very – seeing as my daughter is the person who reintroduced young Mr. Wells to the wizarding world a year ago in April 2000."

"I can confirm the veracity of that statement and I have proofs with me, Madame Minister," Alex added. "But we do not have a lot of time and we wanted to show you a true seeing young Mr. Wells had in regards to Mr. Dumbledore and his plans. We have a wizarding tent, a legal pensieve and supporting documents all below.

"And you can invite Shack to join us once he gives us a wizard's oath to keep everything confidential."

The oath freely given, the four went down to the wizarding tent and the viewing of the dream began.

"Merlin," was Amelia's only word as she came out of the viewing.

Kingsley's words were much stronger. "That old manipulative, lying, twisted, law breaking fool. He is so fixated on that bloody prophecy that he just handed Britain to the Dark Lord on a silver platter."

Alex focused his gaze sharply on Kingsley. "So you feel comfortable with the veracity of this seeing? Albus Dumbledore would act like that?"

"Definitely," the black auror spat back. "In fact, if you note the Wizengamot scene, I was one of the first aurors to arrive and try to carry out the Minister's wishes.

"Oh, yes! Albus would do exactly that and he would use that reasoning to justify those actions."

Amelia raised her hand to break up the conversation. "Gentlemen, let's not waste time seeing whether Albus would do something like this or not. I believe we know our old fool too well not to believe that he would not do such an action. Instead, let me ask you a question – why bother to show this to us now? What is your endgame?"

"Madame Minister, we have already acted on much of this seeing. We have made arrangements, grudging ones at that, with the ICW and they will allow wards to be put up all during the OWLs exams as well as permit our agents to patrol the exam centre. We will ward Mr. Wells ourselves to ensure that he is impervious to charms or portkeys.

"Informing you now is another one of our strategies. We believe, and Mr. Wells and his two companions are in agreement with this, - we believe that in informing you, you will be forearmed. Getting the information out there about the existence of Mr. Wells was a calculated risk, but one that Mr. Wells, his family, we, and his companions felt that was needed to be made.."

With that, Alex and Sebastien laid out the reasoning behind the decision to release the photo as well as the actual reality about Mr. Wells, his magical status, the events of October 31, 1994, and his citizenship status.

The sun was low in the horizon by the time that the four stopped their discussion. Amelia felt frustrated – this was the biggest news and indeed, a potential game changer in the war, but for the moment, she and her forces could do nothing.

"Madame Minister, we believe that Albus will slit his own throat and we want to begin building a case against him on the American side. For the moment, all we want from you is your cooperation that if he does something criminal against Mr. Wells in the U S, that you will not oppose our requests for justice."

Amelia's eyes were hard, but firm. "If Albus too many names Dumbledore breaks the law on your side of the pond, his butt is yours. We will not stand in your way. If he wants to play against law, tradition and working with us, then he will deserve what he gets."

* * *

_CUNY University and Columbia School of Medicine, NYC_

_7:30 am, September 11, 2001_

For both Hermione and Harry, since the last week of August, their attention had moved away from dreams and threats of Dumbledore to studying. For Hermione, this semester marked her first formal semester as a medical student and while she was appreciating the medical training she was receiving from Dr. Jacob Wells and Dr. Peter, the start of formal studies brought home to the studious young woman that she was finally on her way to the career of her dreams. That she was also in the beginning stages of planning a January wedding with a certain raven haired green eyed business administration student only crossed her mind when her day fell on her neatly organized schedule and day planner.

Of course, there were times when both she and Harry had together time besides cuddles, talking, reading, or planning – times when Harry regretted Fleur's having volunteered Hermione to even begin the process. Hermione was a demon at forcing Harry to study for his OWLs and the fact that he had to integrate this with time with her, community time, time with Fleur, studies in his final year at CUNY, time with her, work on the new brownstone project, time with Fleur – all these commitments made him wonder if he would reach the January wedding date or not.

Then of course, there was still the unknown date as the collapse of the Twins – were they right? Was it going to happen? The warnings had come in August and Alex and said that it was close – yet to date no sign.

Today, a bright sunny day in early September would see both Hermione and Harry beginning their day in classes.

_8:55 A.M.:_

Harry's cell phone buzzed incessantly even as other phones in their first lecture were going off. Picking up his phone, he checked the number, surprised that he was able to pick up the signal in the lecture hall, but then remembering that this hall was on the outside of the university campus.

The number was one of his helper friends from across town and he suddenly had a bad feeling – something was going on.

"Harry," he quipped, noticing that several other phones were also being answered despite the professor's boring delivery – or perhaps because of it.

"Harry, the North Tower – a plane, a plane – just crashed into it – it's smoking. You've got to see it."

Harry could now see a growing exodus of students from the lecture hall as they were scrambling to find more sources of information.

He thanked his friend, ended the call and went out into the hallways to see if he could find some confirmation of what was going on.

* * *

_Columbia University Medical School_

_9:05 am_

It would later be determined that Hermione was such a focused person on capturing the details of her lecture on basic human anatomy that she did not register the growing buzz that began to seize her classmates. It would not be until Harry called her for the third time that she would register the persistent vibration of her phone and pick it up.

"Granger," she had spoken into the phone, briefly resenting the interruption to the lecture.

"Hermione, it's Harry," came a familiar voice.

She began to focus on the voice even as the lecturing professor now hesitated, reading a hand written note being passed to him by another student.

'Yes, Harry, I thought I had warned you never to call me during lectures."

"Hermione, MIONE – listen, it's Erin's prediction – it's the Twins. A plane just crashed into the North Tower some 15 or so minutes ago. Merlin, that's another plane into the South Tower."

Realizing by now that something major was going on, Hermione closed up her notepad, closed her book and moved to quietly exit the lecture hall. Still listening to Harry in one ear, she almost failed to register the professor suspending class to allow people to take in the news of the strikes against the World Trade Centre.

"Harry, we need to notify Down Below. Our contingency plans – they have to be activated now," she said in a rush once she was in a clearer zone for phone transmission.

"Good idea. Where can we meet? I want to make sure that you're safe and that we are working together on what we had planned."

"Columbia Med School Basement, left corner?" she suggested. "Got it – I'll stash my books and take the CUNY parking lot entrance, send an emergency code along the pipes and meet you there."

"What about Fleur? The Magical Mall needs to be notified as well as the goblins."

"Does she have her cell phone on her? Call her on it – we've been experimenting with the new design that allows the phones to work in heavily magical zones."

"Will do. Harry – stay safe. Get the areas evacuated – I think with the fires started, the towers might fall and if they do – toxic effects every where."

With that they signed off.

* * *

_The Hub, The World Below_

_9:15 am_

The emergency code on the pipes got everyone's attention and when Harry's message came in of the strike on the World Trade Centre, a rehearsed contingency plan went into effect.

First, rock walls collapsed the tunnels near the Twin Towers and the resulting cave in shut the flow of air currents from the potentially effected areas to other areas closer to the Hub and other inhabited areas.

At the same time, calls went out to Helpers city wide to first determine if any people known to the community might be working today in the Towers, then to see if any helpers were above and in the immediate vicinity of the World Trade Centre. Any that was encouraged to leave the area as Erin's prediction was now being seen as coming true.

As reports of first responders, police and firefighters now entering the burning building began to arrive, Diana found her current status as stuck down below a bit frustrating. She could empathize with her colleagues who were doing what they could to bring people to safety – but she was also very fearful. Her daughter had been traumatized by what she had seen in her dreams and she feared that New York City, and more specifically her own service would see significant tragedy today.

As the morning progressed, Hermione found herself watching snatches of news reports even as she was moving towards the basement levels of the Columbia Medical School complex. She had succeeded in getting hold of her friend Fleur who in turn had notified the goblins: now she was doing all she could to reach Harry, make sure he was safe and then go below to begin to coordinate possible first aid and assistance teams to help those who would be impacted by the ongoing tragedy.

Her heart sank as she saw the collapse of first one tower and then the second. They had been right to be concerned about the risk of exposure to their world – they also were right to have been concerned about the possible toxic effects of the dust of the two towers as it settled on people surrounding the two collapsed buildings.

At one point, the shock of seeing people falling to their deaths rather than taking their chances on staying in burning stairwells proved too much for the tender hearted young witch and it was as she was on the ground floor of the Columbia Med School building, frozen in front of a TV screen, silent tears rolling down her cheeks that Harry found her.

His only response on seeing her, once he was assured that she was alright, was to hold her and present his shoulder as she began to cry. He held her this way for several minutes before she raised her face to his, brown eyes locking on green eyes and then said, "Let's get down below and start revving up our assistance teams."

He squeezed her shoulder in understanding and they turned and walked quietly but quickly down to the basement levels of Columbia.

* * *

**_Aftermath_**

It would take two days to completely sort out the impact of the fall of the Twin Towers on the World Below. Sixteen Helpers were killed by the collapse of the Towers due to their jobs in the World Trade Centre; four more helpers perished as first responders with one police and three firefighters among that number.

The plans that the World Below had made to ensure that the tunnels surrounding or underneath the World Trade Centre would look uninhabited came off without a hitch and little toxic material penetrated the lower levels or the Hub's air supply.

For the volunteers led by Hermione and other community members, the visual images would last a lifetime as they sought to be helping hands for New York citizens hurt by the dislocation due to the shutdown of the city's transit system. Those New York City dwellers who came into contact with a frizzy brunette with brown eyes, a raven haired young man who appeared to be unable to leave her side and a young woman with blue eyes, silver blond hair and an enchanting French accent soon learned that they were in contact with people who cared.

* * *

**A/N: The events of 9/11 are too massive an incident to treat lightly or ignore. I recall my own high school class as we wheeled a TV into our staff room to keep up with the events of that horrific day. The inclusion of this in a small way is a tip of the hat to those front line workers who gave their lives in trying to save others; - and is in a way to demonstrate that even in the midst of a three civil war in the British magical community that larger events can put things in context.**

**Plus, a very important concept coming out of this terrorist attack will come to bite our MOF in his old wrinkled rear. The U S after 9/11 was not the same kind civil rights respecting country that it was before this attack. And our friend Alex will have a whole new set of tools to use against manipulative old fools.**


	25. Chapter 24: Albus' First Strike

Chapter 24: Albus' First Strike

_ICW Exam Centre_

_Salem Magical Institute Annex, Boston, MA_

_October 5th, 2001_

It was eerie for Harry how close his dream matched the reality of the OWLs examination room. It was a confirmation for him that he had indeed received a true seeing – there was no other way to describe the correctness of the detail that had been in his dream otherwise. Especially as he had never been here before in his life.

Alex and Sebastien had both warned him that things would not appear exactly the same as his seeing. The vision showed only an approximation of what would transpire if the message of the vision was ignored. But for him, the level of detail was incredibly accurate.

He was feeling exhausted, yet exhilarated. He felt he had aced his DADA and Charms exams, passed his History of Magic exam with little difficulty and sailed through his Potions exams. He was concentrating on the basic core subjects as his career path in the world of goblin and non-magical finance was already carved out. Let Hermione or Fleur worry about Ancient Runes or Arithmancy – he was more concerned about Financial Investments, Advanced Auditing and Marketing.

He was very apprehensive as well – today marked the last of the big core subject exams and there still had been no sign of the old man. But Transfiguration was one of his masteries and nearly everyone connected with Harry and the family were convinced that he would make his attempt then.

At that moment, he saw a familiar face of Alex's team – the exam centre was crawling with MFBI agents, most of them disillusioned. To see Agnes visible and present, Harry knew they were sending him a message that they had all bases covered.

Harry was not sure he could ever get used to the robes wizarding people wore. The clashing colours, conflicts between fashion styles and ages, and just the robes themselves told him they were a world unto themselves.

He had grown up with the fashions of the world below as those who lived underground were not trying to keep up with the latest fashions. Clothing there had a worn, well loved look and feel and each person took to wearing clothes that they were both comfortable in and that they felt reflected their personalities and their occupations.

The purple robes with yellow shirts worn by some of the O.W.L. candidates were something else completely. Harry felt he needed to wear sunglasses or just shut his eyes to give them a rest: the colours alone were giving him eye strain.

There were 30 candidates for the O.W.L. Transfiguration exam and the quiet buzz of conversation combined with an almost palpable nervous tension was no different than any of the exams Harry had written either in high school or at CUNY. They had already completed the written portion and were now waiting to be called for the practical portion. Harry's nerves were taut as he was not sure he was prepared for this part of the test. This would be the first time he would use his new wand in public and while the goblin tutors, Fleur and Hermione had assured him he was more than capable, he had never demonstrated his magic outside of Gringotts, with his two female friends or in the safe confines of the world below.

He closed his eyes and sought his inner core, calming his nerves and feeling a sense of peace settle within. His calm however was abruptly disturbed when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking up he saw an old man with the most garish set of robes he could imagine.

"Mr. Potter, I presume," the old man spoke. Bingo – it was Albus Dumbledore, exactly as the vision or seeing had projected.

Harry shook his head. "My name is Harry Wells. And you are?"

"Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Scotland," the old man replied. "Forgive my question, but you look very much like a former student of mine and like someone I have been looking for a very long time."

This was the famous wizard who had overridden his parents' wishes and placed him with the Dursleys, Harry thought to himself. Both Fleur and Hermione had warned him that Dumbledore was a dangerous man and urged him to keep contact with him to a minimum.

"Well, I am sorry that I am not your missing person," Harry said. "Now if you will excuse me…"

"I am afraid that I will have to trouble you Mr Wells for a few moments," Dumbledore replied. "You see, the name of Harry James Potter is on the list of candidates for O.W.L Transfiguration practical exams and I have decided that I will administer this exam. Unfortunately, the name of Harry Wells does not appear on the list of candidates here today."

Getting up from his chair, Harry walked over to the wall where the list of candidates was posted. Perusing the list, he swore to himself. In place of the name of Harry Jacob Wells was the name Harry James Potter. Somehow the old man or someone connected with him had changed the name under which he was being tested.

This was not one of the events of the seeing. But he took comfort again in Alex's words that no seeing was exactly as the actual events. But he did have to marvel at the old man's gall – to somehow fool the exam centre administrators into allowing the exchange of names to take place.

He turned back to the waiting Dumbledore. "My name is not here," he said flatly.

"Perhaps your name is there and you simply refuse to accept it," Dumbledore replied.

"No, my name is Harry Jacob Wells and it reflects the family who took me in and have loved me for over eleven years," Harry said in the same flat tone.

"Mr. Potter, if I may call you that…"

"No, you may not call me that! You lost that right when you sealed my birth parents' will, ignored their clear wishes and exiled me to nine years of hell in Little Whinging," he said, managing to keep his voice even although he felt like shouting at the old fool.

"Well, if I can call you Harry…"

"I will not accept that either. It is Mr. Wells to you and I refuse to answer to any other name."

Harry could see a hint of frustration in the old man's blue eyes. This was not going the way the Headmaster had hoped. His twinkle, however, returned as he looked again at Harry and Harry felt a light touch in his mind. Harry turned his face away and moved towards the chairs.

"Harry….Mr. Wells….I would like to invite you in for your practical examination now if you are ready."

Keeping his eyes averted from the old wizard, Harry retook his seat. "Mr. Dumbledore, if I may call you that, there is something I do not understand," he said. "Why would the Headmaster of Hogwarts come all the way to the U.S. to examine candidates for their practical transfiguration OWL exam?"

"You could call me Professor," the old man replied. "As for my presence here, I just happened to be in the neighborhood and offered to help the ICW with their Salem tests."

"I will call you what I will. You are not my professor. And let's cut to the chase here. You came here to speak with Harry Potter."

"Well it is a pleasant coincidence and most fortuitous. Especially as I have some messages and offers for young Mr. Potter." There hung an invitation for Harry to respond and ask him what messages and offers and allow Dumbledore to get to the real reason why he was there. No, Harry decided, he would not play that game.

"I appreciate your offer to examine me, Mr. Dumbledore," he replied, his tone cool and formal. "However we are to be examined by a pool of three and I do not believe the ICW would appreciate any exceptions in my case. I am sorry to disappoint you, but as Mr. Potter has been officially confirmed as dead, I must go and speak to the testing and administration officials to ensure that my correct name is restored.

He rose from the chair, but Dumbledore put a hand on his arm. "Harry….Mr. Wells," seeing Harry's face darken at the familiar use of his name. "We must speak. It is a matter of life and death."

Harry shook Dumbledore's hand from his arm. "We must not speak. You have nothing to say to me that I am interested in hearing. You lost that right when you placed me with the Dursleys, then saw my godfather kissed under your eyes, then ensured that I died under the blood ritual in 1994. You ensured that I experienced hell with my 'relatives', and that I experienced death due to an inappropriate use of magic.

"If you wish to speak to the Potter family about messages and or offers to the Potter family, then feel free to contact the current Head of House, one Ms. Hermione Granger-Potter. The Wells family has no connection to the British magical world, to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry or to you in particular."

The old man's hand tightened on Harry's arm. "Could you humour an old man perhaps? While you may no longer see yourself as Harry Potter, despite the wishes and prayers of an entire magical world, there are still some mementos in my possession which should go to the man whom you are now – mementos from the Potter parents. Will you at least accept these from my hand?"

Bingo. He was going to go for it anyway, Harry smirked to himself. He was back to using almost the same lines as the seeing.

He swallowed his desire to spit his anger into the old man's face. No, according to Alex and Sebastien, events had to play out as the seeing suggested. "Well, seeing that you have mementos from my birth parents, I suppose that I could welcome them from your hands."

The old man's eyes brightened and Harry swore that they actually twinkled now. "Well, then, Mr…Wells, you make the heart of an old man glad. But I am not comfortable giving you these items in this room with so many other eyes on us. I would suggest using one of the empty examination rooms next door?"

Harry rose up and followed Dumbledore into the adjoining empty exam room. He sensed that he was not alone now – this was exactly the move they expected.

The old man reached into his voluminous sleeves and reached out with a sock puppet shaped as a kangaroo. He looked apologetically at Harry, saying "Something from one of my students" before he whispered quietly, "Portus!" as he touched Harry with the sock puppet – and watched in amazement as nothing happened.

Suddenly, both Harry and Dumbledore heard a strong but calm voice behind them. "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, you are under arrest for the attempted kidnapping of an OWLs student from this ICW exam centre."

Whatever one had to say about Albus' age, one could not fault his speed, He was reaching into his robes immediately and was withdrawing an ancient looking wand before he felt the unfamiliar pressure of a wand at his own throat.

"Withdraw your hand slowly and perhaps we can all get out of this situation alive, Albus?" Alex's voice still was calm, but now had an edge of warning to it.

Dumbledore slowly dropped his hand and then uttered one word, "Fawkes!" But no answering phoenix came.

"We knew you were coming, Albus, and we took steps to ensure that your normal means of getting out of ticklish situations no longer worked. We have set up anti-Phoenix, anti-portkey, anti-apparition, and floo wards. So I suggest that we sit down and talk about things."

Dumbledore's twinkle had long left his eyes and he moved towards a chair in the room. Alex sat directly across from him with Harry to one side.

"Alex Mackenzie, this is not what it appears to be," the old Headmaster began. "I was simply trying to reunite the child of former students with things that belonged to him."

"Then you could produce them right now – rather than an international portkey disguised as a sock puppet. Nice effect by the way – a kangaroo?"

Dumbledore smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. "A gift from the Australian representative to the ICW – he knew of my love of socks."

"Still, Albus, you said you have some mementos for Mr. Wells here?" Alex was persistent.

"Yes, they are right….Merlin, I thought I had brought them. They must still be at Hogwarts. If Mr. Wells would accommodate an old man, perhaps I could go back and get them?"

"No, Albus. We know why you are here and it was not to give Mr. Wells some mementos from his birth parents. No, you were here to kidnap Mr. Wells and bring him back to Hogwarts where you would have begun the process of turning back into your vision of who he should be."

Dumbledore's eyes flashed for a moment – he did not like being second guessed nor found out. But he was a politician at heart and felt perhaps he could appeal to Harry Potter's conscience – no Mr. Wells' conscience.

"Can you forgive an old man at feeling excited at the news that despite his foolish action of seven years ago that you, Mr. Wells, are still alive? I have had to live with that guilt for a long time – but I also need you to understand your importance in the difficulties back in Britain," he began.

Harry felt he knew where Dumbledore was coming from – now he would begin to speak about the 'greater good' and how he was the hope for all of wizarding Britain. Alex, however, had little patience for the sophistry of Albus Dumbledore.

"Albus, we are all familiar with your expression 'the greater good' and suspect that we know what your goal for Mr. Wells would be. He would be a symbol for your side in your conflict with the Minister of Magic, a sign that you are the one with the correct path to resolving the conflict with Voldemort – all the while you would be encouraging and 'conditioning' Mr. Wells to eschew his identity and take up your vision of Harry Potter, all the while being moulded to face the Dark Lord and die." As he was speaking, he signed with his hand and five other MFBI agents disillusioned themselves or removed their invisibility cloaks.

Harry next spoke. "If you had rescued me from my 'loving relatives' at the age of 9, I might have listened to you, old man. I might have seen you as the grandfather who cared for me and wanted me to succeed. But I only discovered magic a year and a half ago and shortly after discovered that you were the person who placed me with my 'relatives' in the first place, after ignoring my parents' wills – wills that you were a witness to and should have honoured.

"All for your greater good. Well, I sent a message back with Mr. Lupin, your spy, that I was not interested and now you attempt to kidnap me here – don't you ever listen when someone tells you no?"

Their discussion was interrupted when Halverson of the ICW opened the door with a slam. "Albus, what are you doing here? I didn't believe it when I heard it the first time and even now, seeing you here with that ridiculous portkey, I have difficulty in believing it now. Just what in Merlin were you trying to do with one of our examinees? You can't simply replace his name with one of your own choosing; you can't just walk in here and abscond with Mr. Wells – you are threatening to perform the first kidnapping since we instituted OWL and NEWT exams for the international community.

"I don't care if you are the Supreme Mugwump and if you believe this is for 'your greater good.' Not here and not on my watch." Halverson turned to Alex and the other agents in the room. "Please escort him from this room – we are engaged in serious work here and I find our 'Supreme Mugwump' to be a bit of a distraction.

Dumbledore looked ready to say more, but it was clear that Halverson's attack was more of a tongue lashing than he had expected. Halverson took Dumbledore's silence as his signal to take Harry by the arm. "Mr. Wells, your examiners await." In a slightly louder voice, he continued. "You can take pride in your results – on DADA, Potions, and Charms, you scored Outstanding. On the History of Magic, you scored excellent. The only result we are still waiting for is Transfiguration and we can tell you that you already scored well on your theory portion from this morning.

"You are well on your way to posting consistently high scores and if I may so, you are a testimonial of what goblin education can do with young wizards. Please convey back to your instructors at Gringotts my personal word of recognition in a job well done."

Alex as well as Dumbledore were stunned by Halverson's praise. To suggest that goblins could train wizards or witches as thoroughly as established magical schools dealt a major blow to those bigots in wizarding circles who suggested that goblins were lower forms of life and should continue to have their rights restricted. But Alex realized as well that Halverson, a person notoriously stingy in giving out praise, wanted to see Dumbledore a clear message. His attempt to grab Harry before he had completed his OWLs was doomed to failure – and he wanted Dumbledore to realize the calibre of the young man in question.

Harry was smiling broadly at Halverson's words. "Thank you, thank you, Director Halverson. I will be sure to pass on your comments."

He turned to Alex. "Do you need me here any longer? As the director has said, I need to do my practical now."

Alex smiled at the young man, and then turned back to Dumbledore, a clearly predatory smile on his face. "Oh, everything is under control for the moment, Harry. We'll take care of this old man from here."

Halverson and Harry left and seconds later, Alex turned back to Dumbledore. "By rights I should clap you in magical suppression manacles and have you escorted to court immediately, Dumbledore. You broke several laws today – against the ICW, against our own sovereignty, and against one of our own citizens."

"But Harry is not an American citizen – he was born in Britain and thus falls under the jurisdiction of the British Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore began to protest in his most outraged voice.

"He renounced his British citizenship at the age of 13," Alex began and when he saw Dumbledore raise his hand in objection, he continued. "And he repeated the ceremony last year an adult and his declaration, as such, has been accepted by the ICW, our own Department of Magic and the US Immigration Service.

"That's why we asked him to repeat the ceremony – so that you would not have another point of leverage.

"So, you see old man, we have made sure that all the points have been covered. Thus, we are now faced with a decision of what to do with you. I am inclined to let you off – with a very strong warning.

"Leave Mr. Wells alone. Mr. Potter is dead – magically and physically by your own hand. Whatever purpose Mr. Potter played in your prophecy or in your war, your actions of sending to a home where he received abuse and of killing him when your magic could not force him to Hogwarts has negated that. All of our divination experts are agreed – your actions killed Harry in regards to your prophecy.

"So go back to Britain and realize that Harry Potter is lost to you. If you stay on your side of the pond, then eventually these charges will be dropped. However, if you persist….

"As well, we will be informing your Ministry of your actions here today."

Dumbledore said nothing, his face now a mask. Instead, picking up his sock puppet portkey, with a swish of his robes, he made a silent but dignified exit from the ICW centre.

Alex's subordinate looked at him as the door closed behind Dumbledore. "Do you think he's got it?" she asked.

Alex sadly shook his head. "Dumbledore will only get it when he's been hexed into oblivion. No, he left because he had lost the advantage of surprise and Albus Dumbledore is nothing if canny in regards to attracting attention. This was his best shot – unfortunately, he is a true believer in his own wisdom and thus it will not be his last shot."

Shaking himself, he turned to the team. "Well done, I'll leave two of you here just in case our Headmaster friend decides to make a return visit. The rest of us, let's wrap up and get back to headquarters.

"I've got a letter to send to a British Minister."

* * *

_Office of the British Minister of Magic, _

_October 10, 2001_

Amelia was having another one of those days. Another three raids with four civilian casualties, six Death Eaters and three Aurors – the war was still unfortunately a bloody stalemate. At least, however, Dumbledore had not snagged the Boy Who Lived – yet.

As if to confirm her thoughts, a diplomatic letter buzzed into her "In" tray. The handwriting was the now familiar scrawl of Alex Mackenzie. She didn't wait for her secretary – diplomatic letters were her domain if she wanted it. And she really wanted to keep Alex's letters close to her chest.

Slitting the envelope open, she opened it and drew out a thin page of muggle stationery. She could understand the willingness of the American Department of Magic to use muggle writing tools – it was another sign of their willingness to integrate with the larger society surrounding them, unlike their counterparts in Britain.

She started at the top of the letter and read quickly about the events at the ICW examination centre. Bloody fool, she thought to herself. Dumbledore was a bloody fool. It had happened almost exactly as Mr. Potter, no Mr. Wells had foreseen. Reading about how things had progressed and remembering the pensieve memory, a chill ran down her back – it had been a near run thing. She needed to send a note to Dumbledore and also send an official response to Mr. Wells, congratulating him on claiming the Black family inheritance.

Then she read the last paragraph and felt both a shiver of apprehension and a giggle fight for expression. Alex had a real gift of summarizing issues and yet finding the light moments in things.

_My dear Madame Bones, I cannot think that this will not be the last attempt our old friend will make in regards to Mr. Wells. This one attempt represented the most secure for Albus – any other way risks more exposure to outside interests and to the public in general. But he is a true believer and I believe he does not appreciate the gravity of the charges that we have stayed in his regard here in the Magical U S. Stayed and not erased. If and when he does something further in regards to Mr. Wells on American soil, he inches closer to finding his liberty severely contained – as a permanent resident of Fort Leavenworth._

_ Will your government support the due process of law in this country should that final step be necessary? My superiors would like to have written confirmation of what we discussed in Ireland a few weeks ago – and if you decide to let affairs fall as they will, we might be much more disposed to render assistance to your government in your dispute with the so-called Dark Lord._

_ One last thing that I found objectionable in this visit of Dumbledore's – his choice of robes and portkeys. Rubber Ducks the last time – a sock puppet Kangaroo this time – what next – a plush pelican? Has anyone ever talked with him in regards to fashion sense?_

_ Let's work to keep these lines of communication open._

_ Alex Mackenzie_

_ Special Agent MFBI_

_ New York City, USA_

She chuckled at Dumbledore's choice of portkeys and realized anew just how ridiculous some of her countrymen's fashion choices were in light of changes in the parent society around them. Her ongoing work, first as an auror and then as Director and Minister had forced her to relate to muggles – no – non-magicals on a regular basis and she had overcome much of her own society's prejudice in viewing them as inferior to magicals. Her society had to do a better job in understanding and taking into account the changes in the non-magical society surrounding them.

Still, Alex was asking her and by extension, her Ministry to make a choice. While she had been disgusted to learn about Albus' plans in regards to young Mr. Wells, she realized that she had not yet committed her government on paper to stand with the American MFBI should charges be laid. Well, she was already in too deep to stop now – she would advise Albus that she was aware of the existence of Mr. Wells at the same time as informing Alex that she would honour her word to him.

It was time to write some letters.

* * *

_Hedmaster's Office, Hogwarts Castle, Inverness_

_October 11, 2001_

October was rapidly becoming one of Albus Dumbledore's not so favourite months. 1994 had seen the ultimately foolish decision to attempt to summon Harry Potter by the Merlin cursed Blood Summoning Ritual. He knew that it had been an act of desperation and he regretted it now more than ever – it appeared to have definitely placed the fragment of Tom's soul in control of the Potter child.

Even now, he refused to believe the evidence that Mackenzie had attempted to give him in regards to Mr. Wells. It was so like Tom to hide the truth and twist people into supporting them. Mr. 'Wells' was no Potter now – no, he was full of anger and mistrust, so unlike his parents. No, unfortunately for Mr. Wells and for Alex Mackenzie, he had to stay the course and do the job that it appeared no other wanted to do. He had to bring Harry Potter out of Mr. Wells and get him to accept his destiny.

However, he was not only upset at having his carefully thought out plan in regards to Mr. Wells disrupted. He was also upset with the letter he had received from Amelia Bones. The tone was scathing and brutal – she was aware that Mr. Potter had been found, where he was staying, and of his attempt to 'bring' him home to Britain. She had minced no words – if he was caught breaking American magical law in regards to Mr. Wells, she would cooperate fully with any efforts the American MFBI and the American magical authorities would undertake against him. It was he realized a simple message – let things well enough alone.

But what would Tom gain by failing to come to Britain and join his master, he wondered. Why would the soul fragment in Harry be so resistant to returning back home – he could be a real morale booster for the Dark if he, the physical shell of the Boy who Lived, stood shoulder to shoulder with the Dark Lord. Unless, of course, he meant to expand the empire of the Dark and even now was working to infiltrate American magical society.

The image of Harry with Fleur Delacour and Hermione Granger flashed before his mind's eye – but he instantly rejected it. Tom could be a real charmer when he wanted to be – and any strategy to infiltrate the American heartland would involve charm and subtlety. No, he had to lure the physical shell of Harry Potter here to liberate him from the soul fragment and return him to his destiny.

Now, how could he do that? Perhaps by taking advantage of one of Mr. Wells' associate's gifts – yes, he thought to himself, that was it. The Mirror of Erised – either Mr. Wells or Miss Granger could be enticed and then with a proximity portkey, one or the other would be brought here and then his plans would get back on track.

He rose up, new strength in his body. He had work to do.

* * *

**A/N: It should be said here that we do not believe that Albus is inherently evil. Albus is simply an extreme example of a man who is used to keeping his own counsel and seeing the world from his own point of view. Harry died, therefore the only magical presence left in Harry must be the soul fragment. And who better than he to ensure that the soul fragment is exorcised than he.**

**Our penalty to Dumbledore in this fic is much stronger than in Nothing to Lose – Albus here learns that there are consequences for messing with people's lives. Stay tuned for our next episode – Albus' plans go awry again – and the Triad continues to grow in the use of their magic.**


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